


What Comes Next

by brynfelan



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, But I'm trying my best!, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Romance, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Pining, Post-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Trauma, because i physically cannot write fluff without it being part of a slowburn, because of who i am as a person, chapter 5 has a bit of fluff if you squint!, i am not a doctor i don't actually know how any of this works, it comes in small bursts, like fluff will HAPPEN, listen I got really into dr and now im here, no beta we die like men, post neo world programme, post v2 but pre dr3, some other ships will come into play later???, when i said slow burn i meant s l o w b u r n
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brynfelan/pseuds/brynfelan
Summary: Hajime woke up. He isn't sure he deserved to. Memories come back in dreams, of old friends and escapades that no doubt ended in the Ultimate Despair he so dutifully observed. There is so much work to be done, rebuilding of friendships and figuring out who he is. He's still Hajime, of course he is. Just with a little extra at the back of his head, which he ignores as much as he can.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko
Comments: 37
Kudos: 99





	1. To Be Whole

**Author's Note:**

> I have Kuzuhina brainrot and was dying for a slowburn. So, I decided to make one! Hope you enjoy it!

It’s often hard to tell what somebody else is thinking. For the Ultimate Analyst however, that sort of thing is completely menial. Looking around, Hajime can almost smell the guilt that permeates through his friends. A truth hangs heavily in the air:

_We survived._

It’s been six days since they woke up. They’re in a Future Foundation compound somewhere; white walls, concrete floors, and the bare minimum when it comes to amenities. Not that any of them can truly say they deserve more. The memories come slowly, sometimes in dreams or sometimes in other ways: Kirigiri’s clicking heels remind Hajime of Junko Enoshima visiting him, the bare walls remind him of the “hospital”, if one could consider the facility as such. Looking through his belongings had been tough. Not that he’d had much of anything to begin with, except a small hairpin. That didn’t bring a memory back as such, more of a flood of feelings: doubt, happiness, familiarity, and then _nothing_. He knows logically that it must have belonged to Nanami, but no memories of her outside the Neo World Programme remain.

The seven of them are sitting in a circle: Him, Souda, Nevermind, Kuzuryu, Owari, Naegi and Kirigiri. The last two are members of Future Foundation, tasked with making sure none of them fall back to despair. The other five are his friends, if he can truly call them that after all that happened. They were friends in the programme, but had never met outside of it.

They all remember Kamakura. When they woke up, it felt like Hajime’s entire existence poked at a painful memory for them. A painful memory of somebody that now only half-exists somewhere in his head, not making any move to make himself known but lurking there and lending his talents when Hajime requires them. The first thing he’d asked for after waking up was a haircut, the second being a new set of clothes. Naegi had graciously allowed him those two things. Now his hair is short, messily chopped away but better than before. His clothes aren’t his own, but anything is better than wearing Kamakura’s suit. He would have taken one of Nevermind’s dresses over Kamakura’s suit.

He is not the only one dressed differently than when he woke up. Nevermind had awoken in a ballgown, stained at the hem with blood. She had cried the first time she saw herself, ripped the dress from her body in shreds in plain view of everybody else. She now wears a plain white shirt and black skirt, given to her by Future Foundation. She no longer looks much like herself, but Hajime supposes that’s better than looking like a tyrant.

Owari dressed much the same as him. She had refused the skirt she was offered, touting that training would be impossible in one, but Hajime hasn’t seen her do any sort of training since they woke up. He can’t blame her for it. She is the one whose appearance has changed the most: where muscles used to be, there is only skin and bone left. The clothes she was given seem to hang off her in odd ways, it makes Hajime wonder she must have done whilst enamoured with Enoshima. It is clear she had not been eating enough. He wonders if that was a coincidence, or out of a perverted need for despair.

Souda now wears a plain grey coverall. He’d woken up in a blue one, and hadn’t even thought to change until their third day when he’d woken up and the whole building had heard his crying. Hajime still hadn’t found out what he had remembered, but he wasn’t going to pry until Souda was ready to share.

Kuzuryu has changed the least since waking up. He had woken up in a three piece suit, and only removed the waistcoat in order to feel more like himself. Hajime had heard him cursing at it through the thin walls between their bedrooms, but hadn’t wanted to intrude. He isn’t even sure that Kuzuryu would still consider him a friend after all he’s done. 

The sixth day of group therapy is going the same as it always did. They go around sharing any new memories.

Nevermind is shaking, telling the group of the party they had thrown for Yukizome’s return. How they had thought so highly of her, and how excited they had been too welcome her back to their classroom. Souda stays silent, listening intently. In the programme, he might have sucked up to her or tried to comfort her, but even he knows that there is nothing he can do to ease her pain.

Kuzuryu tells of an afternoon they had spent playing video games in the classroom. It sounds like a happy time, but he speaks through gritted teeth and white knuckles, and is unable to continue when asked who had organised it. The name is like a ghost on his lips, he is searching through his memory for a face that only comes up blank. Nobody is brave enough to take a guess at the answer.

Owari trembles her way through a story of her and Nidai fighting in the classroom, a brawl that had blown a hole in the wall. The others laugh sadly, it certainly sounds like something they would do. She is in tears by the end of it, mumbling about how she hopes the others all wake up safe, but everybody knows that she cares the most for Nidai’s safe return.

It is Hajime’s turn next. His memory is of walking into the headmaster’s office and signing a set of documents he doesn’t totally remember the content of. Afterwards, he was transported somewhere that he doesn’t know, and was told to count back from ten by some doctors. He was lying down at the time, and told not to worry. The memory goes black afterwards, and he has no more to say about it. He knows the feeling that comes with this memory though. It’s cold and clammy and full of anxiety. His throat closes up when he thinks of the smell of the place, all too clinical and cold. Smiles that don’t reach the eyes and being told that he is going to the truest hope imaginable. It nearly makes him vomit.

“Hey Hajime, are you alright?”

Souda is looking at him, his face full of worry. Looking at the rest of the room, the other faces are all the same. Kuzuryu in particular looks shocked, and Hajime can’t meet his eyes when he looks over at him. Seeing him like this makes something in Hajime’s chest pang, a fleeting memory of the brotherhood cup momentarily making him forget why his mouth feels like it’s full of sand.

Kirigiri is the only one that doesn’t look particularly worried. Instead, her mouth is twisted into a sneer, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at him. She looks disgusted about something else. Hajime feels like he knows why she is reacting as such, but can’t piece the memories together.

He nods, swallowing hard. Naegi brings him a cup of water, which he downs and crumples the plastic in between his hands. He doesn’t mean to do that, but apparently he’s much stronger than he used to be. He doesn’t remember quite when that happened.

Souda speaks, but Hajime can’t bring himself to listen anymore. His head is still full of memories of faceless doctors and broken promises. These memories feel like half his own and half Kamakura’s, they still swim behind his eyes even when he’s supposed to be participating. After Naegi says that they are done for today, people filter out of the room and it’s just him and Kirigiri. She looks at him sadly for a few moments.

“I’m sorry, Hajime. You didn’t deserve to go through that.” She says, “Try and focus on something else for the rest of the day. It may do you some good.”

She leaves after that, and Hajime follows shortly after. The others have dissipated, going their separate ways to either be alone with their thoughts or stick together in hopes of blocking out their memories for just a few moments. Walking down the corridor, he can hear Kuzuryu complaining about his eye, and Owari tells him that it must be just phantom pains. Hajime thinks about going to talk to them, but the idea of seeing the others right now fills his throat with bile once more. He ends up walking back to the room they woke up in, sitting next to the pods. He doesn’t know if they will ever wake up, or what state they will be in.

It begins when he looks at the computer.

_AKANE OWARI – 100%_

_??? – 0%_

_FUYUHIKO KUZURYU – 100%_

_GUNDHAM TANAKA – 0%_

_HIYOKO SAIONJI – 0%_

_IBUKI MIODA – 0%_

_IZURU KAMAKURA – 100%_

_KAZUICHI SOUDA – 100%_

_MAHIRU KOIZUMI – 0%_

_MIKAN TSUMIKI – 0%_

_NAGITO KOMAEDA – 0%_

_NEKOMARU NIDAI – 0%_

_PEKO PEKOYAMA – 0%_

_SONIA NEVERMIND – 100%_

_TERUTERU HANAMURA – 0%_

The name makes him feel sick. The reminder that he got out alive, while the others suffered makes his body crumble. He spends time thinking, staring at the monitor. Kamakura is in the back of his head, telling him that there is something he can do, if only he allows himself to.

This is when he sits at the computer, rooting through its files for anything that could be of some use. It feels like Kamakura knows what he is looking for, so Hajime allows him to search. He is of no use here, he might as well let his talents count for something. By the time he finds a programme called ‘Alter Ego’, he feels like he’s been sat there for hours. His eyes begin to tire from staring at the screen, but he knows there is something he has to do here.

Alter Ego speaks to him. A face he does not recognise shows on the screen, asks him what they are needed for. It almost feels wrong calling a programme a person, but it’s difficult to deny something personhood when that something has a face and seems so eager to help him. Hajime watches Kamakura tell Alter Ego to remove the virus from the programme, says exactly how it can be done, where the files that must be removed are. The fact that Kamakura knows so much scares him.

It is Kuzuryu that finds him hunched over the keyboard, typing in commands. He almost looks worried.

“Uh, Hajime? What the fuck are you doing?” It feels inappropriately casual.

It’s clear that Hajime has bypassed some security features on a Future Foundation computer to access files he shouldn’t be allowed to, so he doesn’t know why Kuzuryu is asking. Maybe it’s in the way that a parent asks a child what they think they’re doing.

“I think I’m starting a process that will wake the others up,” He says finally, looking sheepishly at the ground, “Or more aptly, Kamakura is.”

Kuzuryu’s eyebrows knit together, like he’s searching Hajime for the sick joke he’s clearly playing. He doesn’t find it. His face turns softer, almost hopeful if one even could be hopeful in a place like this, after all they’ve done.

“The fuck do you mean Kamakura’s doing it? That bastard isn’t still in your head is he?” Kuzuryu has grabbed him by the collar of the shirt, but it doesn’t feel threatening, “Are you telling me that Peko’s still alive?”

“I don’t know yet. It will take time for this programme to remove the virus from the system. All I can do until then is research.” Hajime is surprised by how calmly he speaks. He isn’t sure if it is him or Kamakura. “If my hypothesis is correct, the complete removal of the Enoshima virus will allow for the others to be woken up. I’m sorry to not have more information yet.”

Kuzuryu lets him go, allows him to straighten himself up. It turns out that Hajime was missing dinner, so Naegi had sent him to search. He feels bad for making somebody else come looking for him. He doesn’t ask how Kuzuryu knew to find him here.

He is taken to the dining hall, working himself back into his own head as they walk in silence. It isn’t uncomfortable by any means, but it is thick in a way that only silence can be.

“Uh, can you not tell the others just yet?” Hajime asks, “I want to be completely sure it’ll work before I get everybody’s hopes up.”

Kuzuryu just nods as they enter the dining hall. He even comes up with an excuse for Hajime not being there, saying that he was just taking a walk and hadn’t thought to check the time. The others seem relieved, like they were expecting something much worse. Both Naegi and Kirigiri look at him for a moment, completely unbelieving, but they don’t say anything.

The meal is quiet, like every other meal. They are slowly becoming more comfortable with each other again; Owari is eating more, Nevermind isn’t crying, Souda is asking Naegi if he can have something to take apart in the near future. Kuzuryu seems happier too, but that’s likely down to the glimmer of a chance that Pekoyama will come back to him. He even smiles at Hajime when they clear their dishes up. Not a forced one either, the small kind that still manages to reach his eyes. He asks Hajime if he can speak with him privately, and before he can even think to agree, both Kirigiri and Naegi insist on speaking to him too.

“Somebody’s popular today,” Kazuichi has a grin on him that can only mean Naegi has relented and promised to source him something to mess around with.

Hajime just shrugs. He knows that Naegi and Kirigiri know _something’s_ up.

The others file out, leaving him with the two Future Foundation employees and Kuzuryu.

Kirigiri looks between the two of them, and asks “So exactly where were you? I don’t believe that you were just roaming the halls.”

Hajime explains, and neither Naegi nor Kirigiri look angry at him. Neither of them look surprised either. It’s like they expected this sooner or later, which is maybe why the security on the computer was so easy to bypass, or why they left the doors unlocked. It almost makes him angry that they didn’t simply ask him, but he can’t really blame them for it. He wouldn’t want to ask himself to do something like this, if he were them. They both simply tell him that they will do all they can to make the process easier. Kuzuryu gives them both a look that tells them he would fight like hell if they even suggested Hajime wouldn’t be allowed to work on this problem. It is expected of course, in no world would he pass up the opportunity for Pekoyama to wake up safely.

He asks for a notebook to organise his thoughts, to help him come to some kind of understanding on how the waking up process might work for those who ‘died’. He explains what he has come up with so far.

“It seems that the Enoshima virus could be preventing the others from waking up as would be expected. While some of it has been removed, there are still traces deep within the programme itself. Alter Ego is currently working on removing those parts. Should all go to plan, there is a chance that those still comatose will begin waking up, although I cannot guarantee the state they will be in. It is possible that the process of dying within the programme may have caused some damage to their brains, but I cannot confirm that yet.”

It is definitely his voice that comes out, but the words are not his own. Hajime feels like he is merely observing himself speak rather than actually being involved in the process. He’s sure the others have noticed, but he can’t bring himself to intervene at the moment. He is far too tired to correct his speech, tired enough that allows Kamakura to do the work for him. He’s the one that’s been doing all the work here anyway, so he might as well finish the job.

Kamakura speaks for him for some time, Hajime barely pays attention. When Kirigiri and Naegi leave, Kuzuryu snaps his fingers in his face.

“Wake the fuck up, I didn’t ask to speak to that bastard, I asked to speak to you.”

Hajime shakes his head for a moment, like his brain is a one of those Etch-a-Sketch toys he had as a kid and needs to be refreshed. He blinks twice, and has to think for a minute in order to be able to use his voice once more.

“Yeah yeah, sorry. I’m just tired, must have spent way too long looking through those files or something,” He tries to smile, but he’s sure it comes out crooked and strange, “What did you wanna talk about?”

“It’s about Peko, and the others. Do you really think there’s a chance they’ll wake up?” Kuzuryu looks anxious, like he did during her trial. It feels like it’s ripping a hole in Hajime’s chest.

He sighs and shrugs, “Listen, I’m not sure yet. It’ll all depend on how much damage that virus did to the programme. Even if I _can_ wake the others up, I’m not sure if there’ll be any damage to their brains from dying in the simulation or whatever. That’s why I don’t wanna tell the others just yet, it’d break their hearts if I failed. I don’t know how long it’ll take for Alter Ego to remove the virus either, but the tech seems pretty advanced so there’s some hope there. I’ll have to check back in tomorrow to check progress on it, until then all I can really do is figure out the best course of action if they do wake up with some form of brain damage.”

Kuzuryu looks disappointed, but nods along anyway. It’s difficult to tell somebody that all their hope might be for nothing, it’s difficult to remember that all your hard work might be for nothing. All Hajime can do is try.

“I’ll do my best, I want everybody to wake up too. I’m just not entirely sure it’ll work, but I believe it’s possible.”

Kuzuryu smiles properly this time, claps him on the shoulder and nods. Hajime can see a brief moment of pain flash across his face, but it’s gone as soon as he blinks.

“Just let me know if you need anything, alright? I hope you haven’t forgotten about the brotherhood cup, it still stands y’know?” He stands up, rubs over his eyepatch, and helps Hajime up too.

They walk in silence after that, back to their rooms. Neither of them really want to go to sleep, but they’ll need to eventually. Hajime needs to sleep to be able to effectively work. He just hopes that it isn’t all for naught.

“Night, Hajime. Don’t work yourself too hard for our sake, you gotta take care of yourself too.”


	2. Of Guilt, and Those Who Seek It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make absolutely no promises on how often this will update, but I've been hyped for writing so here's chapter two!

The next few days are of little note. Hajime spent them much the same as he is spending today, either hunched over the computer, scribbling in the notebook that Naegi supplied him with, or in some sort of therapy. The memories never get easier. Last night he dreamt of needles and operations, of stone-faced doctors whose level of care consisted of sedating him for as long as possible while they poked and prodded at him. The night before, he dreamt of an afternoon spent playing video games on a bench with Nanami. The night before that, he saw how Nanami died. The others’ memories haven’t been less horrifying. Today, Souda spoke of how he rigged up a truck to kill as many people as possible. Kuzuryu on the other hand, spoke of a childhood memory where him and Pekoyama did Hatsumode. To keep himself from thinking about it too much, he keeps himself occupied by working on waking the others up.

If the clock on the computer is correct, it is just after midnight. Alter Ego has located the viruses in the Neo World Programme, and according to the AI it will take just over a week to remove all of them. That means a week to prepare, a week to research as much as possible and a week to come up with contingency plans for as many outcomes as he can. There is little research online about anything this specific, but he hasn’t been left empty handed after three days of working.

From what he can tell, based on what Alter Ego has been able to tell him, there is unlikely to be significant brain damage to those still comatose. It is still possible, but an unlikely outcome. While their brains perceived a death during their time in the programme, this does not mean that they actually died. Much like how a death in a dream does not kill you, this shouldn’t either. The matter of their whole consciousness being uploaded is of little issue; if Hajime remembers the last trial accurately then even the dead reappeared when they had the choice to simply stay there. This means that their consciousnesses should still be somewhere in the system, and should be able to be recovered.

There are, of course, other issues. They made need intense physical therapy, if the perception of their injuries has led to any significant changes in the brain. If this is the case, many of them will need to learn to walk again. For those with more traumatic deaths, like those who were executed, this possibility increases. Hajime has not seen a medical doctor on site since he and the survivors woke up, and will have to inquire about that next time he gets a free moment with either Naegi or Kirigiri.

The glare of the monitor keeps him alert, as he scrawls diagrams into his notebook. The brain is a fickle thing, and while damage to it is unlikely, he wants to be prepared. If there is any damage at all, he needs to be prepared for it. He will have to do full assessments on everybody as they wake up to check for this.

For the second time, Kuzuryu finds him at the computer. This time, he looks less worried and more annoyed.

“Get up, you’ve been at it all day.” His voice is firm and commanding, like something you’d hear in a yakuza movie.

Hajime is grabbed by the collar, and hoisted out of the chair. He expected this, but doesn’t fight it. If he’s learnt anything over the last few days, it’s that his strength is surprising even to himself. Between crushed cups, and nearly breaking his door of its hinges whilst he was particularly tired, he knows full well that he is stronger than he remembers being. It’s probably a Kamakura thing. He’s much too skinny to actually have that kind of strength naturally.

He allows himself to be dragged out of the room, eventually brushing Kuzuryu off enough to walk on his own. He is led down to the lounge, where he is told to ‘sit the fuck down’ and ‘relax for Christ’s sake’. Kuzuryu sits across from him, resting his elbows on his knees. There are dark circles under his eyes that make him look hollow, and his worry lines are more prominent than before.

“Hajime, for fuck’s sake. I know you wanna help, but you’re no use to any of us if you’re killing yourself over this. Even Souda’s realised something’s fuckin’ up,” His voice sounds weathered, it cracks in places that it didn’t used to, “Just take a fuckin’ break. For me?”

Guilt piles up in Hajime’s chest. Thinking about it, since he started working on the Neo World Programme, he hasn’t spent time with anybody outside of designated meals and daily group therapy. Even at dinner, he hasn’t stayed with the group long enough to truly consider it spending time with them. If he could have taken his meals to the computer, he would have done.

Honestly, he hadn’t even considered that anybody would want to spend much time with him. They all know about Kamakura sitting in the back of his head, and it would be understandable for them all to be wary of him. Yet, here Kuzuryu is, all but begging him to look after himself.

“Yeah, I get it. I’ll take more breaks. It’s just hard to do that when I’ve got a deadline,” Hajime can’t meet Kuzuryu’s eyes, “Alter Ego should have the programme wiped of the virus in a week. I don’t know what’s gonna be left when it’s done. I just want everybody to see their friends again.”

Kuzuryu’s eyes flash with something. Hajime can’t tell what it is. Maybe it’s pain, or hope, or something else. Maybe it’s a mixture of emotions. He’s too tired to tell.

“I know you’re worried. But wasn’t luck one of the talents those motherfuckers implanted you with? I don’t think you need to stress so much, as long as it’s you working on it then it’ll all come out fine. At least, that’s what I believe.”

There’s nothing to say in response to that. Hajime wants to thank him, but can’t quite find the words to do so. Instead, he gets up and goes to the drinks machine in the corner, and brings back two cups of cocoa. It isn’t good cocoa by any means, but it’s what they’ve got. He sits down, pushes one of the cups towards the other, and gives the best smile he can muster up. Kuzuryu just nods, and starts drinking his.

They sit like that for a while, Hajime can’t really tell in a room where there is no windows or clocks. It must be moving into early morning by now, but he doesn’t feel tired in the sense that he wants to sleep. In fact, if it were possible he would go without. He’s sure the others feel the same, the memories that come in dreams are almost unbearable. He probably has it the best of all of them, he can point the finger at Kamakura and say that what he did was not him but the monster that Hope’s Peak made from his body. The same cannot be said for the others.

Naegi finds the two of them asleep on opposite couches, empty cups in front of them. When Hajime wakes up, he feels refreshed for the first time since he came to this facility. Even Kuzuryu looks peaceful as he sleeps. He hopes that today’s memory is one that is of the good times, rather than of what happened under Enoshima’s reign. He gently shakes the other awake, Naegi just leaning against the door watching them. It doesn’t feel threatening, but it does make him uncomfortable to be watched in such a way.

The three of them walk to the dining hall. Kuzuryu makes him promise to spend more time with them all, which he agrees to despite his protests. The others seem pleased that he is staying for longer than the amount of time it takes for him to inhale a slice of toast and a coffee. Breakfast does not go without light interrogation though.

“Hajime, what is it that you have been doing whilst avoiding us?” Nevermind is the first to ask him.

He looks between Naegi and Kuzuryu for help, but neither of them give it. This must be his to talk about, apparently. Eyes fixed to his shoes, he begins to speak.

“I’m working on the Neo World Programme. You remember there’s a virus in it, which is why we had that killing game instead of what was meant to happen? Yeah, I’m trying to remove that.” He doesn’t give any more information than he absolutely needs to, he doesn’t want the others to get their hopes up too high.

She clasps her hands together, the first real smile Hajime has seen her have in a long time spreading across her face.

“Of course! Do you expect that will allow our friends to be awoken, if the virus is removed entirely?”

That makes Hajime splutter for a second. Apparently, Nevermind is much more perceptive than he originally thought. Well, it’s to be expected of a princess. He nods slowly.

“Y-yeah, that’s the hope anyway. I’m not sure it’ll work, but it’s the best chance we’ve got, right? I gotta wait for the virus to be removed before I can make any promises though. There’s no research on this sorta thing done, so I’m kinda going off of hope right now.” His eyes are glued to his shoes, too nervous to see the faces of his comrades.

Owari speaks first, saying “Well, it’s our best shot, right? If there’s even half a chance ya can get Nekomaru back, then I’m rootin’ for ya!”

For the first time, a light mist of hope has spread across the room. It feels alien, and yet distinctly familiar. Souda has his arm slung around Hajime’s shoulder, a wide grin on him that feels so genuine it chokes him up.

“Yeah! I knew my soul-bro wouldn’t avoid us without a good reason, he’s just been workin’ too hard for our sake!” Souda pinches Hajime’s cheek, before letting him go, “Still, you’re not getting away from us that easily, no matter how hard ya work there’s only so much to be done, so ya gotta make time for your buddy Kazuichi.”

It feels like they’re back in the programme for just a moment, before they knew of everything that they’d done. If Komaeda were here, he would probably say something about the hope that they represent. If Nidai were here, he’d say something about how he needs to rely on his team more. It’s hard to think about, but for a brief moment the hope in the others feels so infective that Hajime can’t help but smile along.

He stays longer for breakfast than he has in days, the light mood not leaving them. They joke and laugh, and Naegi looks proud of them. He whispers something to Kirigiri, who joins them around halfway through their meal, and the two of them share a private laugh that Hajime feels he is not meant to be privy to. He ignores the two of them, focussing instead on how the others are unashamedly enjoying themselves for the first time since they woke up.

Even after breakfast, the five of them remain together. While it is not complete joy, there is an air of contentedness around them all, making light conversation. Owari is eating her way through the vending machine in the lounge, and everything feels so normal, despite their situation. The mood falters when they are called for their group therapy session, but it has become so routine that none of them can bring themselves to complain.

Seated in their circle, Naegi asks who would like to go first this time. Kuzuryu volunteers himself, making the others deflate in relief. Nobody ever wants to go first.

“Right, so the memory I had last night wasn’t so bad? It was the time Miss Yukizome got us all to round up everybody who wasn’t in class, on her first day as our homeroom teacher.”

The others nod along silently, trying to piece that particular memory back together. Hajime had no part in this, so just stares at the ground.

“Mine was, uh, that time Hiyoko messed with Teruteru’s cooking and spiked it with aphrodisiacs,” Souda’s face is bright pink to match his hair, “Talk about a weird day.”

“Mine was from when Miss Yukizome asked Chiaki to be our class representative,” Nevermind adds, smiling brightly.

“Mine was an afternoon where we all cleaned the classroom with Chiaki, and Nekomaru nearly suplexed a desk trying to dust!”

They all seem so happy. Hajime feels like he’s intruding on them sharing memories of their time at school, while all he has is the vague memory of meeting Miss Yukizome and her telling him that talent wasn’t everything. A part of him wishes he had truly listened to her, but another more selfish part knows that he never would have been able to spend time with the others had he not gone through with the project. Was that worth destroying the world? He can’t tell.

Once they are done talking, he shares his memory. They all smile at him, Nevermind voicing that before everything Yukizome had been so kind. Hajime assumes that is true of most of them. Without Enoshima’s influence, they probably would all have been fairly upstanding members of society. With him being the only exception of course, since he agreed to have somebody else lodged in his brain where he was meant to be. He can’t bring himself to be upset though, he wouldn’t want to ruin the happiness his peers are sharing. Kirigiri looks at him knowingly, and they end the session there.

Afterwards, Hajime announces he is going to check on Alter Ego’s process and do some more research. Souda volunteers to come and get him once dinner is served, to which he agrees, and goes on his way. Really, there doesn’t feel like much more he can do besides plan courses of treatment for all possibilities which he does. He must be prepared for all outcomes.

Alter Ego seems to be progressing well in its endeavour to remove the viruses. Souda does as he said he would, and drags Hajime away from his work to eat, after which he continues with a promise to take a break when he feels as though he must.

Kuzuryu makes another appearance sometime before midnight, asking if he would like to come sit with him in the lounge for some time. This time, Hajime goes willingly so as not to upset him again. There are already two cocoas on the table, and the two talk in circles for a while. They do this for the next few nights, around the same time. It is always Kuzuryu that comes to check on him, the others seemingly having gone to bed.

“Why do you always come and make me take breaks, Kuzuryu?” He asks on the fourth night in a row, when his cocoa is halfway gone.

The other looks confused for a moment, “Since when are we on last-name basis now? You know it’s fuckin’ Fuyuhiko right? Or do I need to spell it out again for ya? Either way, it’s because I care about you, you’re probably the reason we got outta the Neo World Programme alive, if it hadn’t been for you we’d have probably been executed at the first trial. So I wanna make sure you’re not gonna die over your project, we all know you work too hard. Plus, the others don’t like staying up this late, so unless you wanna start doing all your work exclusively in the daytime, you’re stuck with me.”

The response surprises Hajime. When _did_ he start referring to him by his last name? It had to have been sometime around them waking up, since he definitely called him Fuyuhiko throughout their time in the programme. Maybe it’s his twisted sense of formality, since learning of his own past he felt like he had never truly become friends with any of them. Maybe that’s wrong of him though, since they all seem to consider him a friend. On the other hand, it may be that Kamakura referred to them as such and that’s got something to do with it. He doesn’t really know, and doesn’t care to think too deeply into it for now since it’s late.

“Sorry, Fuyuhiko. Since waking up I’ve been a bit outta it, probably something to do with the other guy,” He smiles apologetically, “Anyway, I was just wondering. Don’t like sleeping too much, so I’d rather have you than nobody.”

The subject isn’t brought up again, but he does put in an effort to call the others by their first names more. It’s only _Makoto_ and _Fuyuhiko_ that seem to notice, but it’s enough for him. The week goes by without too much event after that, aside from a few particularly tough therapy sessions. He’s been getting better at remembering to spend time with the others, getting better at interacting at mealtimes, all of which add up to making him feel at least marginally better in the times where he feels as though he’s the worst person to ever walk the planet.

It’s a full nine days later, when he’s hunched over the computer at nearing midnight when Fuyuhiko comes to get him for their cocoa, when Hajime notices it. He isn’t looking for anything in particular, besides rooting around at what’s left of the programme now the virus is gone, when it becomes clear that one thing has changed.

_??? – 20%: 8 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

_FUYUHIKO KUZURYU – 100%_

_GUNDHAM TANAKA – 0%: 20 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

_HIYOKO SAIONJI – 0%: 16 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

_IBUKI MIODA – 0%: 16 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

_IZURU KAMAKURA – 100%_

_KAZUICHI SOUDA – 100%_

_MAHIRU KOIZUMI – 0%: 13 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

_MIKAN TSUMIKI – 0%: 17 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

_NAGITO KOMAEDA – 0%: 21 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

_NEKOMARU NIDAI – 0%: 19 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

_PEKO PEKOYAMA – 0%: 14 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

_SONIA NEVERMIND – 100%_

_TERUTERU HANAMURA – 10%: 9 DAYS TO UPLOAD_

Without a word, Hajime tears himself from the screen and drags Fuyuhiko by the wrist down the hall to where the others are sleeping. He only lets go when he’s told that he’s ‘too fuckin’ strong, let the fuck go of me you bastard’, and starts banging on the doors of everybody. They all look groggy and confused, when he tells them the news.

The other four are stuck in stunned silence for a few moments, before Fuyuhiko finally says something.

“You’re not fuckin’ kidding, right?” He says, fist clenched white, “Hajime, if you’re joking I’ll fuckin’ kill you – super strength or not.”

When he drags them all back to the computer to show them, Sonia starts crying and pulls Hajime into the tightest hug he can ever remember getting. Kazuichi is doing some sort of excited cheer, and Akane is already talking about how much of Teruteru’s food she’s going to eat when he wakes up. He doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he might not be up to cooking for some time.

They all go to bed eventually, after being scolded by Makoto for being awake so late. Apparently getting enough rest is best for their treatment, but in the moment they don’t care. The excited chattering back to their rooms doesn’t let up until Sonia finally lets go of him and retires to bed.

Hajime and Fuyuhiko do still drink their cocoa, though. Despite Makoto’s protests, neither of them are wiling to give up their nightly ritual. For once, Hajime can say he’s done a good job at something.


	3. The Idea of Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter this time, since I couldn't for the life of me get it perfect regardless of how much I tinkered with it. Should be a longer one next time round!

Once again, the next few days do not bring any sort of new excitement to Hajime’s routine. It is much the same as always: wake up, eat breakfast, work. Lunch, group therapy, work. Cocoa with Fuyuhiko, go to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

That’s not to say nothing of interest happened. Every night brings a new memory, a new horror to make him sick to his stomach. A memory of an evening spent with Junko Enoshima working over a computer. A darkened room, and a gun pointed to his head. A desolate city, and a chain in his hand. They come in snippets, usually nothing that he can truly piece anything together from. It unnerves him to know that there’s so much of himself he just doesn’t know, stuff that he’ll only be able to remember if he talks to another person who was there.

As the clock ticks away, both excitement and anxiety swell in his stomach. Less than twenty-four hours remain until the first wakes up – he wants to call him Byakuya, but he knows that isn’t his name. He isn’t sure that he has one. He supposes that bridge will be crossed when they come to it.

That bridge is coming up unnervingly quickly. Dinner is a mix of excitement, and the sobering realisation that this might not go according to plan. Of course, they have the Future Foundation to call on for any help they may need, but nobody is sure how willing they are to help out a group who once called themselves remnants of despair. It seems that even Naegi and Kirigiri are on borrowed time, watching over them to make sure they won’t try to enact Enoshima’s revenge or something just as violent. Hajime doesn’t know what will happen to them once they have been deemed stable enough to be allowed to leave, or if there is anywhere they will be able to go.

Still, there isn’t much point dwelling on that. For now, he simply has to wait. He has been tasked with assessing the Ultimate Imposter once he has woken up, since apparently there wasn’t enough time to get a real doctor out to this facility. He wants to damn Future Foundation for that, but he really can’t blame them too much. Hajime isn’t sure he’d want to help a group of ex-terrorists if he were in their position. He should have expected it, but that amount of responsibility is daunting, even with the others supporting him.

After dinner, everybody waits in the lounge for the clock to strike two. They have all agreed not to retire to their rooms until they know how stable the Imposter is, which means Hajime is sandwiched in between Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko on a couch as they pretend to focus on a game of cards. None of them are truly able to pay much attention though. Kazuichi is rambling about this and that with Sonia and Akane. Fuyuhiko is almost deadly silent. He occasionally twitches. His nose is filled with the smell of rot, probably some kind of anxiety-induced hallucination.

The clock ticking is unnerving at best. When the time for the Imposter’s awakening draws near, Hajime is escorted to the pod room, and there he waits with Naegi and Kirigiri either side of him. On the computer screen comes a video call from Togami, who apparently has a vested interest in seeing that everybody here is safe. Hajime can’t tell if he respects him or wants to punch him in the face. He was a big reason as to why he and his friends were able to get out of the Neo World Programme unharmed, but there’s a snarky air of self-importance that seems to surround him constantly. He thinks he prefers the Imposter’s version of Togami.

Hours tick into minutes, and the loading bar on Alter Ego’s end fills up. He goes over to open up the pod, greeted by a face stricken by grief.

The first words that Imposter says to him are, “Is this hell, Hajime?”

Honestly, he isn’t quite sure how to answer that. On one hand, they’re alive and safe. On the other hand, this place is so _boring_ that it might as well be considered some sort of purgatory.

“Not quite, can you stand?”

Despite his strength, it still takes the addition of Naegi to help Imposter actually get up. It appears that he still walks just fine, if not a little shaky, so they sit him down and ask him what feels like around a thousand questions. They start with the basics.

“What is your name?” he asks.

A voice scratchy from the long time spent unconscious replies, “I don’t necessarily have one. I believe you know me as Byakuya Togami. Before, I was Ryota Mitarai. You know this already though, so I believe the name that is best given to me is Imposter. That is, after all, what I am.”

He notes that down, makes sure to remember to tell the others later that he _wants_ to be called Imposter. Or maybe it’s just a convenience thing. It doesn’t matter at the moment, so he moves on, ignoring Togami’s dissatisfied cough from over the computer speaker.

“This one’s going to be a big question, so I apologise, but what do you remember?”

Imposter thinks for a moment, flinches when he gets to something particularly painful, and then says, “We were in a simulated killing game. There were sixteen of us in total, as well as Monomi and Monokuma. Teruteru Hanamura killed me by accident. I believe he was originally going for Nagito Komaeda.”

The questions go back and forth as such for what feels like hours. Hajime half checks-out, letting his instinct ask the questions and using what remains of his brain power to actually analyse what he’s being told.

A full medical and psychological evaluation later, and Hajime is absolutely exhausted. It has been deemed that Imposter will need some individual therapy before he is allowed to join the rest of the group. It seems he needs to be told some things, before he can handle the content of those group therapy sessions, and will likely need some time before he can see the others again without feeling anything but immense guilt. Of course, exposure therapy is always an option, but it would be best to give him a few days before pushing his limits too hard.

He walks back to the lounge feeling like there’s blocks of lead in his shoes, greeted by four expectant faces. It doesn’t take long to explain what happened, considering that it was largely uneventful. A small voice at the back of his head tells Hajime that it was _so utterly boring_ , but he pushes that thought away for now. The others seem pleased with his answer, and they slowly peter off to get some rest. All except for Fuyuhiko, who waits on one of the couches for him, with a paper cup of cocoa on the table.

“How long is it now until Peko wakes up?” Fuyuhiko asks after some time of sitting in silence.

Hajime thinks for a moment, brain utterly fried from everything that’s happened today. The answer appears to him as if it had been obvious the whole time, almost like his brain is condescending him for not being able to reach it quickly enough.

“Well, Imposter woke up today. Hanamura’s waking up tomorrow, after that it’s Koizumi and then Pekoyama. So, six days in total,” He’s counting on his fingers, but he doesn’t feel like he needs to, “After that, the others will wake up in order of when they died. Seems like both Mioda and Saionji are waking up on the same day, so that’s gonna be a handful.”

It feels selfish to say, but he hopes that the dancer and the musician don’t wake up at exactly the same time. Ideally, he’d like an hour or two in between them, to give him time to fully assess the first and maybe take a break in between. He’s glad that it seems like they’re all going to be alright, but being the guy in charge of figuring out if they’re able to re-join the group immediately or not puts a bit of a damper on the excitement.

There’s a smile on Fuyuhiko’s face but he’s scolding Hajime, “Prick, you gotta stop calling them by their last names. They’re still gonna be your friends when they wake up, and you can’t just go around like they’re just like, office acquaintances or some other stupid bullshit. I can understand doing it with Future Foundation employees, it’s clear they aren’t our fuckin’ friends, but don’t do it with us.”

He sighs. Fuyuhiko’s right. He’s not going to admit that though. Instead, he just nods along and waves his hand noncommittedly in response. He’ll figure out if they’re still friends when he actually gets to meet them properly.

After the cocoa is finished, they go their separate ways to bed. Hajime shrugs off his clothes, and nearly immediately passes out upon hitting the mattress.

_He’s in the pod room. It’s barely lit, except for the hazy glow coming from the monitor on the desk and the faint greenish glow coming from each pod. The others are sedated and securely in their pods labelled with each of their names. They were sedated before they came here. He promised that he had no reason to harm anybody here, and was allowed to walk himself inside. His hair obscures his vision somewhat, but it isn’t bothering him for some reason. His legs carry him towards the computer, his hand brushes past the system unit. Nobody has noticed him do this._

_He pushes something into a port. He waits a few moments, and then carries on to the pod that Makoto Naegi is ushering him towards._

_“C’mon, Kamakura. If you don’t do this, it won’t work right. We’ve gotta have all fifteen of you in there.”_

_He nods, and boredom swells within him. Not only that, but a sense of obligation. Obligation to see this through, to see if something like hope could truly be more unpredictable than despair, or to allow whoever gave his body up for him the chance to use it again. He isn’t sure which it is. It might be both. An unknown to him is particularly interesting but doesn’t do much to quell the boredom that eats away at his stomach._

_He gets into his pod, labelled clearly with his name. It flashes for a moment, the name changing to one he doesn’t recognise. If hope were to overcome despair, it would be predictable. If despair were to overcome hope, it too would be predictable. The only thing he cannot account for is himself, and he needs to know what will happen._

Hajime bolts up. His heart is pounding, and he feels like he might vomit. His eyes sting, and his whole body is racked with shakes and trembles. There is only guilt left where the boredom was in his stomach.

He grips at his hair, following the ends down to where they stop just short of his ears. He wants to rip it all out, to run as far as he can to escape everybody. After all, somebody like him shouldn’t deserve the kindness of others, who think he’s done so much for them all for cleaning up his own mess and starting the process of waking the others up.

“It’s all my fault,” He repeats this, over and over. He can’t tell how loud he’s being, doesn’t even think to worry about it.

He gets up, pacing around while he mutters to himself. At some point, he started crying. Apparently, he was being rather loud about it too, as there’s banging on his door that sound like it’s about to cave in.

It’s the rest of the survivors on the other side of the door.

Kazuichi has rushed forward to try and grab hold of him, but Fuyuhiko has him pulled back, “Dumbass, he could suplex a fuckin’ truck, don’t go just grabbing hold of him like that!”

Sonia’s face is stricken with worry.

“Hajime dear, what do you mean it’s all your fault?” She looks at him cautiously, searching him for something that she doesn’t want to find, “You’ve saved Imposter, and Teruteru too, remember?”

“Yeah, and you said the others were gonna wake up after that! Don’t be so hard on yourself man, we’ve all done stuff we aren’t proud of,” Kazuichi is struggling against Fuyuhiko’s grip.

The others all agree. They’re too blinded by caring for him to think about what he could mean, and he’s too choked up to say anything other than it’s all his fault. No other words will come out.

Fuyuhiko tentatively steps forward, letting Kazuichi go. His hands are open in front of him, like he’s approaching a feral cat that stinks of mange. Soft hands grip his shoulders, and he falls forward to lean against the other’s chest. He doesn’t stop crying.

He realises that this is the first time he’s cried in front of the others. He briefly wonders if that’s a bad thing or not, he’s seen the others cry plenty of times. Sonia the second she remembered her kingdom, Akane when she looked at herself in the mirror for the first time, Kazuichi when he spoke of a video that took all his hope from him, and Fuyuhiko when he told of a childhood where he wasn’t allowed to call Peko by her first name except behind closed doors.

Fuyuhiko buckles under his weight for a second, but doesn’t fall. The hands on his shoulders join around his back, and if this were any other situation Hajime might laugh at how ridiculous the height difference is. A full twenty-two centimetres between them, yet he is the one hunched over and sobbing.

He stays there for what could have either been two minutes, or two hours. The tears slow, and he steadies himself to stand straight. He can still feel himself trembling, but it isn’t as bad as before. That smell of rot is thick in his throat again.

_How predictable._


	4. Bad, Worse, Better?

Group therapy that day is the worst it’s ever been. Hajime, while usually completely fine with sharing what he’s learnt, wants nothing more than to simply allow the ground to swallow him up whole. Maybe if the universe were to be so kind to him, he would be wiped entirely from existence so that nobody would remember him, his presence having been erased. Luck is not on his side today. The others are all watching him with tired eyes and concern, he did wake them up earlier than usual with the freak out he’d had that morning.

“Hey, Hajime. Mind going first today?” Makoto is smiling at him, like he doesn’t know what he remembered. Maybe he doesn’t.

Really, he’d rather not. Weighing up his options, there’s not much he can do, no “lucky” option that would get him out of this. Saying no would probably end with more questions, and he would have to ruminate for longer. Saying yes gets it over with quickly, like ripping off a bandage. He can’t exactly say no either, not when everybody knows he’s remembered his Big Thing. He’s the last of them all to do so, it was only a matter of time until he remembered something truly awful he’d done out of boredom. His eyes are fixed to his shoes, tears threatening to spill through his eyes again.

“I, uh. It was before we all went into the programme,” he starts, “Everybody else had been sedated except for me. Feels like a real stupid thing to do, Naegi, but I guess you were worried I’d lash out or something. Anyway, I was about to go into the pod, and I fumbled with the computer first. Had this USB drive in my pocket, and shoved it in there. If everything is correct, I’m the one that put the Enoshima virus into it, which is probably why I knew where to find it to remove it.”

Things are silent for what feels like an age. Everything feels heavy, Hajime isn’t even truly sure if he’s breathing or not anymore. Rolling a boulder up a hill for eternity would be easier than looking at the others now, with their eyes burning into him like they are. He knows they’re staring, likely weighing up in their minds if it would be truly a crime to throw him to the wolves on the spot. He can’t even blame them for it, given half the chance he’d allow them to do it. He doesn’t have the fight in him for this.

“Why’d you do it?” Kazuichi asks, breaking the tense silence for just a moment. Things aren’t less tense by any means, but now there’s a question hanging up in the air.

“I was bored. Wanted to know which would be more interesting, to be completely rehabilitated or to ruin it all,” Hajime’s voice cracks, but he gets it out eventually.

It’s an answer he doesn’t want to give. It’s a horrible answer, probably the worst out of everybody’s. He can’t claim to be brainwashed by Enoshima, because he wasn’t. He, or Kamakura, knew exactly what he was doing. There was no despair there, just somebody everlastingly bored who would stop at nothing to find something to amuse himself for five minutes.

“You do not feel that way now, correct?” Sonia’s voice rings in his ears, it feels nearly like salvation.

He shakes his head. Of course he doesn’t.

“So despite your actions, I do not think there is any way we can blame you. Especially considering all you have done now to rectify the situation. We will try our best not to hold this against you in the future, as you do not hold our misdoings against us.”

She smiles at him, the same warm one that Sonia gives everybody when they’re upset. If anybody would know about guilt it’s her, and Hajime can’t help but trust her assessment. If everybody else’s faces are anything to go by, she’s right. Even though they look shaken up – Fuyuhiko looks like he might break something if provoked – they might forgive him in time.

“I don’t think you’ve got it in you to pull something like that again, Hajime. No matter what happens, we know you’re just doing your best like the rest of us,” Kazuichi has a hand on his shoulder, “Miss Sonia’s right. We all did things we aren’t proud of, but the first step to getting over it is admitting you’ve done something wrong. I’m right aren’t I, Naegi? Didn’t you say something like that when we all woke up?”

Naegi is nodding along, while Kirigiri writes. He looks proud of him, which feels strange. To take pride in somebody that purposely wanted to kill his friends is an odd angle to take.

He’s crying again. He isn’t sure that he ever stopped, maybe that he took a small break at some point. There’s a hand on his shoulder he doesn’t have the energy to react to. He doesn’t look up to see whose it is, he just keeps staring at his feet. Rot fills his lungs, and he has to excuse himself for a while to make sure he doesn’t vomit all over the floor.

Splashing cold water in his face helps, he still looks red and puffy all over, but it feels soothing. Looking in the mirror, it’s hard to recognise who is staring back at him. His hair is too dark, but cut nearly the way he likes. One red eye, one hazel. Not quite Hajime, but not at all Kamakura. Somewhere in between the two of them is where he exists. He half wonders if it would be all that bad to just rip the other eye out of his skull, but decides against it when he remembers how much trouble that would cause everybody. Maybe he should just start wearing an eyepatch, that way he could match Fuyuhiko.

After a few minutes of psyching himself up, he goes back to the others. He gets a cup of water, careful not to crush this one, and sits. Kazuichi describes a day at the academy, where he was fixing up a bike for an underclassman (Naegi’s face flashes with something for just a second, if you blinked you would miss it). Sonia, full of melancholy, tells of a day that Gundham brought a bear to class.

Akane talks about a soup made by Teruteru that Hiyoko had slipped an aphrodisiac into, which sends the others into a small round of laughter. They go back and forth, remembering details as they go. Apparently, Kazuichi had flung himself at Sonia and missed, ending up sitting right in Gundham’s lap. Cherry red, he diverts attention to Fuyuhiko and asks why he wasn’t flirting with Peko.

“Are you outta your fuckin’ mind?” There’s bite to his voice, but it doesn’t _feel_ like there’s much malice behind it, “She’s like my fuckin’ sister. I don’t know what kinda weird crap you’re into, but I’m sure as hell not into it.”

Hajime is grateful that the day took a turn like this. He isn’t sure what he would have done if he’d brought everybody down, when they need all the cheering up they can get. He wishes that he could remember the good times with them, but the only girl he could do that with is dead and buried as far as he knows. Hell, maybe not even buried. He wouldn’t put it past Enoshima to just leave her body there, he wouldn’t put it past _Kamakura_ to leave her there. Thinking about that makes him feel nauseous again, so he pushes it away for now. That’s a thought for later, when he’s not supposed to be listening to the others and their memories.

He zones back in to Fuyuhiko talking about a memory of his younger sister. He’s got tears in his eyes when he talks, calls her the Ultimate Little Sister – although she wasn’t in the main course, there was no better way to describe her.

“She was the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met,” He says, “But that’s what little sisters are, right?”

Naegi nods along, seemingly understanding.

Their session closes out, and he’s kept back by Kirigiri and Naegi. He was sure something like this would happen, but it’s another thing entirely to actually be faced with it. Neither of them look disappointed in him though, they both reek of that same concern they showed the others when they last had minor nervous breakdowns during a session.

“After today, are you still up to being there while Teruteru wakes up?” It’s Kirigiri that speaks, “We understand if you need processing time. Regardless, we’ll have to rely on you should he need any physical rehabilitation, but we understand if you would prefer to not be present unless absolutely necessary.”

Ah, yeah. He’d forgotten about Teruteru. Well, that’s not entirely fair, he was just preoccupied with the weight of knowing it’s his fault that him and the others are still comatose and might need physical rehabilitation after all of it.

“That won’t be necessary,” He replies, “I’d rather have something to focus on right now. How is Imposter doing?”

Naegi still looks wary of him. Does he not look like he’s perfectly capable of helping another person sort out their trauma in a handy-dandy hour-long consultation? Actually, he’s glad that Naegi isn’t a mind-reader, because he doesn’t think he wants the answer to that.

“He’s adjusting. I can’t tell you everything, but for now he’s more concerned about the others than himself,” Kirigiri pulls him out of his train of thought, “And if you’re sure, although if you change your mind please let us know. This is a lot to take in, and nobody wants you overworking yourself.”

He nods, assumes he’s free to go, and promptly leaves. It’s not that he dislikes either Kirigiri or Naegi, it’s just that he’d rather not be alone with either of them for too long. Something about them makes him feel on-edge.

When he enters the lounge, he is greeted by Sonia who drags him across the room in order to all-but drip feed him tea and talk with him about literally anything other than the obvious. She discusses how well everybody seems to be recovering so far, and asks how Imposter is doing – when he’ll be able to join the rest of them, and how long will it take for everybody to wake up. She seems particularly interested in Gundham, which isn’t exactly surprising considering how close they had gotten during their time in the killing game.

“If everything goes well, it should be just under two weeks until everybody’s woken up. I’m probably gonna be pretty busy in the evenings from now on. Not sure if I’m meant to tell you this or not, but we’re currently working on the hope that nobody’s gonna need much physiotherapy afterwards. We can’t tell yet though, since we’ve only had Imposter wake up, and his death was one of the least traumatic,” Hajime runs his hand through his hair, “So we just don’t know yet. It’s hard to tell what’s gonna happen until it’s already happening, y’know? Sorry I can’t help you more with that, even though I’ve got a brain full of every talent that’s ever passed through Hope’s Peak, I’m in the dark about a lot of this.”

Sonia nods along, still smiling. He’s surprised that it doesn’t seem forced, but he guesses that Sonia’s never really been one to lie about how she feels about people – even when Kazuichi was hanging off her every word and following her around like a lost puppy, she was still courteous to him. Not friendly, but courteous. It doesn’t feel like she’s just doing this to appease him, though. It’s nice.

 _It’s boring._ _Her kindness was expected._

Hajime ignores that, shifting the topic to asking Sonia how she’s been keeping herself relatively sane whilst being here. Apparently, she’s not allowed to read any sort of murder mystery or true crime novels, so she’s been keeping a diary and writing her thoughts in them.

“I suggest you try it, Hajime. It makes it easier to share your memories with others if you come to terms with it first,” Her hand is on his now, warm smile infecting him with a shred of confidence that things will work out, “I’ve promised Akane that I will attend one of her ‘training sessions’ with her today, so I must be off for now. Please consider what I said about journaling!”

With that, she floats away. If Hajime didn’t know better, he would say that she’s nearly fully recovered. He does know better though, that she’s using the classic ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ method. He hopes that it works out for her. She at least seems to be coming to terms with everything.

Checking the clock, he still has hours until he’s meant to be in the pod room. With nothing else to do, he throws himself down on the couch next to Kazuichi, who is tinkering with an alarm clock – presumably the one from his bedroom. Watching him entertains him for a little while – the other is muttering something about gears and how he wishes he could just get at something with a motor. He understands, it’s difficult not to be bored in a place like this.

Even thinking about being bored makes his stomach turn. So, he spends as long as possible asking Kazuichi meticulously specific questions about the inner workings of the clock he’s got. The outcome

is that he ends up getting a half-hour long rant about how all clocks could be improved by adding a motor and wheels, specifically designed to roll away from you when the alarm went off so you’d have to run around to catch it.

They discuss the finer details of this idea, and eventually come to an agreement that it would be useful for people who find it difficult to get out of bed once they’ve woken up.

“It would be annoying if you’d forgotten to turn it off though, and ended up waking up on your day off to a feral alarm clock running around your bedroom. We’re also assuming that everybody keeps their floors clear, and it wouldn’t get stuck on something – it would have to have some kind of censor to detect potential obstacles.”

Talking with Kazuichi about something he’s so interested in is actually quite enjoyable, so much so that Hajime nearly misses the call for dinner. How long had they been sat there?

Dinner isn’t anything worth mentioning, nothing of significant note happens except that Fuyuhiko is a no-show. Naegi tells them all that he’s got a headache, and will be resting for the evening, so they shouldn’t bother him. Worry curls up in Hajime’s stomach, but the more logical part of his brain tells him that it’s probably little more than a migraine. There’s also the twinge of disappointment that he won’t be able to meet Fuyuhiko for their nightly cocoa, but resting is more important.

Eventually, the time comes for him to make his way to the pod room and meet Teruteru. Kirigiri and Naegi both remind him that if he needs to take a break, they won’t keep him longer than absolutely necessary, but the distraction is welcome for now.

They go through the motions, Hajime notes that Teruteru’s memory is similar to Imposter’s – basics, and little more. He remembers as much of the killing game as he was alive for, and little else aside from _being_ a remnant of despair. The name Junko Enoshima seems to send him into an agitated state, and before long he is taken by Kirigiri to another part of the facility to be monitored more closely. He has to be taken in a wheelchair, because there’s no way he could walk that far. It’s still too early to tell whether the method of death has any effect on a survivor’s physical state, but Hajime writes down that how long a person has been comatose will also probably affect them.

After all is said and done, Hajime drags himself from the pod room and down the long corridor back to his own bedroom. He briefly pokes his head into the lounge, but it’s completely empty. There’s a pang of worry in his chest – sure, it’s probably nothing, but he still wants Fuyuhiko to be alright. With everybody living in such close quarters, it’s hard not to miss him when he’s gone for a while. Is that how the others felt about him?

Despite his exhaustion, he makes it into bed largely unharmed. Well, aside from nearly faceplanting into the door, but that’s neither here nor there. Sleep takes him quickly, he barely has time to pull off his shoes before he’s passed out on top of the sheets.

Memories that night come in snippets of Chiaki Nanami. Afternoons at the fountain, bonding over that one video game she really liked – the name escapes him every time he tries to remember. The one that sticks with him all the way is the first time she waited for him at the gates, how his whole body had filled with nerves and relief at seeing her – she really did think that just him was good enough, talent or not. There’s the shortest moment where he sees the rest of the class, just walking together. They all seemed so happy back then. He remembers wishing so badly that he was among them. He is now, but the price he’s paid for that privilege is insurmountable.


	5. The Smell of Rot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A trigger warning at the beginning of this one for descriptions of some pretty gross medical-related stuff. Hope you enjoy it regardless!

He wakes up the next morning, bleary-eyed and a brain that feels like molasses, to a banging on his door. It’s not so loud that it would wake the others he thinks, but having it _right there_ is definitely what has pulled him out of half-melancholic memories.

It’s Fuyuhiko at the other side of the door, clutching his head. He is all pale skin, freckles fading into grey and deep-set darkness under his eye. He’s been crying, tear tracks staining his cheeks and a bloodshot sclera. In short, he looks like shit.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Hajime asks.

He would have asked if Fuyuhiko was alright, but that’s an obvious resounding _fuck no_. He’s pushing his way past Hajime and slamming the door shut behind him with a quivering hand.

“Look at my eye,” He says, voice scratchy and sharp, “I remembered something, and I don’t wanna look.”

To see Fuyuhiko so outwardly terrified is jarring, to say the least. Hajime worries exactly what he’ll find underneath that eyepatch, but nods anyway: Fuyuhiko wouldn’t have come to him for help, unless it was serious. He’s not the kind of person to ask for _any_ help unless it’s unavoidable. He sort of feels flattered that it’s _him_ that he’s come to for help, but the more logical part of his brain rationalises that he’s the only one with any medical knowledge, and if it’s an eye-related issue, he’s the best person to come to overall.

“Yeah, okay. Can you sit down and take the patch off for me?” He tries to keep his voice steady, “I promise I’ll be quick.”

Fuyuhiko sits on the bed and peels the eyepatch away. There’s this stomach-lurching wet sound that comes with it. That smell of rot curls up in Hajime’s lungs, getting worse as he steps forward to take a closer look. When his eyes adjust to what he’s seeing, his guts twist up. It’s a blue eye staring back at him – no, not _staring_ , since that would imply something that’s alive. This eye has clearly been dead for a long time.

Most of it is necrotic, deep and inky where it should be a bright white. The once bright blue iris has clouded over, its pupil now greying. The skin surrounding it is full of pus, bright red and sore. The few lashes that are left there are stuck together, and it all smells of rot. It makes Hajime want to vomit, stomach turning. There’s acid burning his throat as he looks at the mangled flesh where a living eye _used_ to be.

The first words that leave his mouth are, “That needs to come out. Now. I’m gonna go get Kirigiri or Naegi, whoever I find first. Wait here.”

Fuyuhiko looks like he’s going to argue at first, but seems to choose against it. That’s all Hajime needs to bolt out of the door, running straight for Kirigiri’s room – while Naegi’s is closer, she’s more likely to be awake at this hour, or less likely to be too dazed in waking up to help.

Only when he’s banging on her door does he realise that maybe he should be more quiet, lest he wake the others up at whatever hour it is. Can’t be later than six, if even Kirigiri isn’t awake yet.

She answers fully dressed, the only difference being that her long hair is pulled back into a low bun. She’s probably just woken up.

“I’m assuming this is an emergency, if you sought me out specifically,” Her voice is monotone and calm, “What is it?”

Hajime explains all that he can, which admittedly isn’t much besides he needs a sterile room, operating equipment, and ideally some sort of eye implant (if he can even save any of Fuyuhiko’s remaining lid). Kirigiri nods, before making a quick call to Togami.

“Of course I’m being serious, Byakuya. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu needs surgery, no it can’t wait until tomorrow. His eye is rotting out of his skull, this isn’t something we can put off. Good. Fine. Good. Thank you.”

She hangs up abruptly, rubbing her forefingers to her temples.

“That man is a headache, but you should have all the necessary supplies in around two hours. We do have rudimentary medical supplies here. Nothing particularly strong, but there are some painkillers to help ease him for now. In terms of where you can perform the surgery, there is a room just behind the pod room, which is where we keep said medical supplies. It is only basic, but I don’t doubt your ability to make it work.”

It isn’t as fast as he would have liked, but in all honesty, Hajime is just grateful for Kirigiri’s help. An image of him needing to perform improvised surgery using kitchen knives comes to mind, and he’s glad that he won’t have to actually resort to that. Still, he’d prefer to get out of Kirigiri’s hair as soon as possible, so he thanks her for her time and promptly dashes towards the pod room.

Kirigiri wasn’t lying about the side room being rudimentary. It reminds Hajime of a nurse’s office in a school – there is a bed at least, and a small medicine cabinet. From there, he takes some fresh gauze, some alcohol wipes, and the strongest painkillers he can find. It’s not much, but it will have to do until he can properly treat Fuyuhiko.

Fuyuhiko is sitting bolt upright when he returns, gripping at his knees.

“Hey, Kirigiri pulled some strings so I’ll have all the stuff in a couple hours. For now, I’ll redress the wound and you can take a couple of these painkillers. It’s only acetaminophen, but it won’t interfere with the anaesthetic I’ll use later and it’s all we’ve got right now,” Hajime tries his best to smile, but this really isn’t much of a smiling matter.

Fuyuhiko is completely silent, just nodding in response. So, Hajime gets to work: Cleaning the wound is kind of gross, especially with the rancid smell, but he tries his best to push it into the back of his mind. Still, he didn’t realise he would be so squeamish after investigating six bodies.

_If this pains you so, I can do it for you. The smell doesn’t bother me. I can also perform the surgery, if that is what you wish._

The voice makes him jump a little as he’s holding his breath while dabbing at the eye. His first instinct is to push the voice away, but the deal is sounding pretty good. The thought of performing surgery also strikes a nerve in his stomach. He resigns himself to think about it until the supplies arrive.

Hajime finishes cleaning out the wound, with about fifteen pus covered wipes, and fits a clean gauze over it. He hands Fuyuhiko two pills, and retrieves a glass of water.

“There, that should hold you over until I can actually fix it. Mind telling me how that got there?” He knows he’s being far too casual considering there’s an eye that’s definitely not Fuyuhiko’s slowly rotting away his eye socket, but he never took a class on “how to talk to a friend you made a Yakuza blood-bond with about the necrotic eye in his skull”.

Fuyuhiko worries his lip, gripping his knees tighter.

“Uh, it’s really gross. But it’ll probably help you get the fuckin’ thing out later if you know how it got in there, right?” His voice catches in his throat, “It’s Enoshima’s. When Naegi’s class killed her, we found her body, and a few of us _took_ bits of her and replaced our own shit with it. Thought we could carry on her legacy better that way, I guess.”

The idea that more of them took body parts from Enoshima is concerning, to say the least. Hajime dreads to think what else he’ll have to deal with when the others wake up – he’ll have to check on their bodies later.

“I took an eye. Got this skewer and just pulled my own out, replaced it with hers,” he continues, “Nagito took one of her arms. Mikan’s got it the worst though, thinking about what she did makes me wanna puke. Don’t think anybody else took anything though, so on the bright side, that’s only two more rotting body parts you gotta deal with.”

Hajime looks at him. His heart swells in this disgusting way that makes him want to run – just run from everything. Except he can’t, because he’s the only one that can deal with this, at least until Mikan’s woken up – and even when she does, he’ll have to remove _something_ from her.

“What did Mikan take?” He’s not sure he wants to ask, but this isn’t exactly a pleasant conversation anyway, “I get that it’s gross, but I’m gonna need to check on their bodies later to make sure nothing’s going as necrotic as that eye.”

Fuyuhiko gives a hollow laugh, shaking his head for a moment, “Man, it’s so fucked up. Mikan was actually in _love_ with Enoshima, I think. She thought if she took what she did, she’d be able to have Enoshima’s kids. Mikan was always a bit of a crazy bitch, but despair really changed her – changed all of us really, but she had it _bad_ , Hajime. When we found Enoshima’s body, she took out this scalpel from god-knows-where and took out pretty much everything she could of her _reproductive organs_ if you catch what I’m saying. I really don’t wanna have to say it out loud, but you know, right?”

Enoshima’s _womb?_ If this isn’t hell on Earth, Hajime doesn’t know what is. The thought of it makes him feel more nauseous than he already was, and it’s Fuyuhiko that had to see that in his dreams. He can’t even imagine the kind of damage that would have caused, and vows to take Kamakura up on his offer when he has to remove _that_.

“Right. Thanks. Get some rest for now if you can, I guess. Everybody should be starting to wake up soon, so I’ll let ‘em all know you’re still not feeling great so they won’t bother you. Don’t eat anything either, the anaesthetic might make you vomit while you’re under and I don’t want you choking on your own puke.” His voice is sombre, if he’d ever actually fallen to despair he’s certain that he’d be relapsing into it right now.

Fuyuhiko agrees, and pushes himself off the bed on shaky knees. Hajime falls back in bed when he’s gone, staring at the ceiling.

_You are pushing yourself too hard. This level of stress is unhealthy._

He grips at his hair, just for a moment.

_Allow me to take care of the surgery. You are in no fit state to do it._

His knees come to his chest.

_I saw him do it, I remember exactly what he did. It will be easier for me to perform the surgery._

When did he start crying?

_Please, Hajime. Allow me to perform this surgery, and I will do my best not to bother you in the future._

“Fine, fine. You can do it,” Hajime mumbles, although he’s not really sure he means to – or _needs_ to.

He stays in bed for the rest of the morning. Kazuichi comes in to give him breakfast at some point, which is when he informs him that Fuyuhiko is still sick and needs time to rest. Kirigiri comes in a while later to let him know that the supplies have been delivered.

Hajime’s legs carry him to Fuyuhiko’s room. He doesn’t really remember walking there, but as long as everything gets done, it’s okay. They walk together to the “medical” room – it’s a stretch to call it that, but it’s the best way Hajime can think to describe what little medical equipment there is in there.

Fuyuhiko lies down, and Hajime feels his knees wobble for a moment. He feels like he’s mentally checking out, tucking himself behind a corner in his brain until it’s safe to come out again. He can still watch, but he has no control over what he is doing.

_I will ensure this all goes smoothly. Please relax for now._

“I’m going to put you under now. Count backwards from ten,” Kamakura says, injecting Fuyuhiko through a cannula that Hajime doesn’t remember placing.

Seeing the needle fills Hajime with some kind of reflexive dread and anxiety. He can't remember having an aversion to needles, but regardless the sight still makes him nervous. His hand removes the gauze, and starts cleaning the area. When part of the lower lid shoots out pus, Hajime decides he can no longer watch. It’s simply too much for him to handle.

_Do not worry, Hajime. Your friend will be fine. This is not a pleasant experience, you do not need to see it. Rest._

For the first time, Kamakura’s words feel something adjacent to comforting. It’s hard to trust somebody who once used your body to allow the world to burn, but he is too tired to come up with a reason as to why he would be being deceived this time. Maybe Kamakura was right about needing to rest.

He isn’t sure how long he’s gone for, he only knows it’s time to come back when Kamakura tells him Fuyuhiko is about to wake up.

_Everything went well. Make sure to give him the antibiotics. He needs to take two per day for the next two weeks._

The lights are bright when he opens his eyes, and it takes a moment for him to adjust. He feels somewhat refreshed though, although he can’t quite explain how disappearing would make him feel that way.

“Hey, Fuyuhiko? How are you feeling?” He says, his throat feeling tight, “You might feel a bit weird for a while, but I got everything out of there.”

The room is completely clean, much to Hajime’s surprise. The only way he can tell that anything even happened is some light staining on his shirt, and the fresh bandages around Fuyuhiko’s eye.

Fuyuhiko grumbles a little bit, and then he laughs. To Hajime, it sounds sort of like Nagito’s laugh – it makes him shiver – but less _deranged_ and more generally drugged up. Well, that’s to be expected, he’s on some pretty strong painkillers at the moment.

“Hey Haj, you got the fuckin’ thing out?” He giggles, “I feel real fuckin’ floaty and like my brain’s made of mochi. You think it actually is?”

“I- no. Do you feel nauseous or anything?”

“Kinda? I’m probably not gonna puke, if I didn’t puke when I realised what was in my skull I’m not gonna now.”

“Right, good. I’ll bring the trash can over anyway, just in case,” Hajime has to take a second to differentiate the actual trash and the biohazard trash, but he picks the right one and brings it to the side of the bed, “I’m gonna get you some water, and then you’re on bedrest – got it?”

“Got it, Haj. I’m gonna tell Peko all about this when she wakes up, she’s gonna be real proud of me for making a friend like you.”

Hajime does as he says, picking up the bottle of antibiotics from the counter. He thinks about trying to give them to Fuyuhiko, but decides against it when he realises that the other can barely swallow the water – let alone a pill. He leaves it for now, but makes a mental note to return to it later.

Fuyuhiko does eventually get the water down him, and as time goes on becomes more and more lucid. When Hajime in confident in his ability to recall information, he lets him know that he’ll need to take antibiotics for the infection.

After around an hour, the two walk back to Fuyuhiko’s room. Hajime has to hold him to keep him steady, one arm curled around his waist. It’s a task for the two of them to fit through the narrow door, but Fuyuhiko ends up lying down with his head elevated to keep the socket from swelling while he sleeps.

“I’ll go grab you some food, you haven’t eaten all day so you must be starving,” Hajime smiles, “I think there’s cookies in the vending machine, so if you can’t eat a whole meal it’s alright. Just don’t keep up with a sweets-only diet.”

Fuyuhiko nods in agreement, but the only vocal response Hajime gets is a tired grunt. He takes that as his cue to leave and actually go and get those cookies, before the other passes out again. The closest vending machine is in the lounge, so that’s where Hajime goes. He is greeted by a flurry of questions about where he’s been all day.

“Bro! Are you alright? You and Baby Gangsta have been totally MIA all day!” Kazuichi shouts, pulling him into a bone-crushin hug upon his arrival.

“Yes! We’ve been quite concerned, Makoto told us that we would not be having our usual group discussion today because of your absences. We were worried about the two of you, but were told we were not to intrude.” Sonia adds, looking at him in a way that tells him she knows that _something’s_ going on.

“Yeah, we’re both fine. He’s just sick, so I spent the day taking care of him. Don’t worry so much, Soda. I’m only here to grab him something to eat,” He smiles as wide as he can, “C’mon man, I’ll hang out with you tomorrow but right now he’s sick, and cookies have been requested. Not sure if the Kuzuryu clan is still standing, but I don’t doubt he’ll kick my ass when he gets better if I don’t get back stat.”

After another hard squeeze, Kazuichi lets go.

“Fine, but next time I’m sick I want a full day of being waited on hand and foot!”

Hajime just rolls his eyes with a grin and goes to pick up a few packets of cookies and a few bottles of water. In a burst of inspiration, he also makes two hot chocolates. It’s a pain to carry everything, so he has a pack of cookies in each hand, held against a cup each, and a bottle of water nestled in the crook of each elbow. Sure, it might be easier if he were to make two trips, but he doesn’t want to have to walk all that way twice.

When he gets back to the bedroom, Fuyuhiko is already half asleep. It’s to be expected, considering the tiny amount of sleep he must have gotten overnight coupled with the after-effects of anaesthesia. Still, Hajime sits at the end of the bed, and puts down his spoils from the lounge.

They drink the cocoa in silence for a while, Fuyuhiko occasionally dipping a cookie into his. Both of them are thinking, Hajime can almost _hear_ the cogs in Fuyuhiko’s brain turning.

“Be honest, how are you feeling?” He asks.

Fuyuhiko smiles at him, “Honestly? Crap. My body feels heavy, and my face hurts, and I’m sure I said some weird shit while I was drugged up. Thanks for taking it out, by the way. I know I kinda busted down your door at the asscrack of dawn.”

“Don’t mention it. We did that brotherhood cup thing, right?” Hajime smiles back at him, “We both got out alive and I’m not having you die from an infection after the fact. If I can help, I’m going to.”

Fuyuhiko rolls his eyes, but it feels more affectionate than condescending, “Yeah, I know. You work yourself too fucking hard, if you didn’t have us all breathing down your neck you’d probably find a way to devote all your waking hours to helping everybody. Don’t do that, by the way. If I’m not dying from an infection, you’re not killing yourself worrying about everything.”

The conversation lulls after that, paper cups get discarded to the bedside table, and Hajime stares at his feet for what could have been either thirty seconds or an hours – he isn’t sure which. He only snaps out of it when he hears a light snore coming from Fuyuhiko’s end.

He glances over, and sees Fuyuhiko sleeping peacefully. If he were to describe it, he’d say that he’s cute when he’s sleeping – but that sounds really creepy. Fuyuhiko would probably always be cute if he weren’t so high-strung all the time, seeing him devoid of any anger or sadness is just nice.

Realising that he’s probably been looking just a little too long, he pulls the cardboard casing off one of the cups, and digs around his pockets for a pen. When he finds one, he writes _‘remember to take your antibiotics! – HH’_ and places it next to the pill bottle. He picks up the rest of the trash, leaving behind the water, and goes back to his own room.

It’s still early afternoon, but he lies down anyway. He thanks Kamakura for his help, and drifts into sleep.


	6. Friends

Fuyuhiko remains on mostly bed rest for the next two days. He comes to group therapy, but eats his meals in his room. Hajime finds himself missing him – losing a fifth of his friends even for just a few days puts a large hole in their group. He does keep his promise to Kazuichi of hanging out, although there isn’t really much to do in the facility aside from wander the halls or play board games. When they do play, Hajime does his best to not choose the lucky route. It would be unfair to the others, and while racking up a long winning streak might have been appealing once upon a time, now it feels like it would only serve to gloat to the others about all the _things_ he can do now.

By the time Fuyuhiko is out of bed, Teruteru and Imposter have both joined the group. Their return is welcomed, and although not necessarily spectacular everybody is glad to see them at least somewhat healthy again. They’re not the same as before, but none of them are. Even as they all recover, it’s difficult to be as carefree as they were at the beginning of the game. Still, with two more added to their group, things are starting to feel a little better. Hajime hopes that as the others wake up and join them, they’ll all start feeling less alone.

That buzzing feeling of hope extends into their first therapy session together. Two chairs have been added, making the circle feel a little more whole than it did before. The first thing Imposter asks of is Ryota Mitarai, the Ultimate Animator.

“I am aware that he ran away,” He says, “But I do not know of what happened to him afterwards. Can you confirm whether or not he is alive?”

Naegi nods with a smile on his face, “He’s alive and well. Actually, he’s asked if he can come and visit sometime, when he isn’t working. I’d rather not tell you anything else for now, since I’m sure you’d rather speak to him directly, but I’ll let you know when he’s visiting.”

He gets a nod in return, and not much else, as the others go back to discussing their memories.

Teruteru recounts a fond memory of his mother, the first Hajime has ever heard of her. It’s of her working in the kitchen, with him as a child helping her out and her proud beam when he made his first proper meal. It’s a nice memory, a good one for today, since the others are all talking about those fond nostalgic memories that only come every so often. Usually, it’s blood or terror, but sometimes small bites of happiness, of a time when everything was as it was supposed to be.

Kazuichi’s memory is probably Hajime’s favourite of the day. Apparently, him and Gundham had ended up being pretty good friends at some point. It all happened because of a project that Miss Yukizome had them work on – combining their talents to make something interesting. He thinks that she was just trying to force them to make each other gifts, but it worked – Kazuich had built a complex tubing system attached to various cages for Gundham to use for the Dark Devas. To stop them from getting out, it had a motion sensor installed so that the tubes would only open when one of the hamsters came up to it. It was simple, essentially only being a cage with automatic doors, but he recounts the way that Gundham had grinned at him when he was presented with it. During that project, Chiaki had given him this racing game that had you build the car you wanted from the ground up. He smiles as he talks of it.

Those sessions always end with wistful looks, melancholic smiles, and everybody sticking just a little closer together afterwards. Even if they’ve lost everything else, they’ve got each other. Which is why Hajime sandwiches himself between Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi on the couch afterwards. It’s a tight fit, but even Fuyuhiko only complains about Hajime’s knee digging into his once before they move past it. Kazuichi has his arm lazily draped around his shoulder, rambling about some cool robot he wants to build when he gets the parts for it.

Across from them are the two girls, leaning against each other and laughing about something that Sonia said. Teruteru is perched next to them, not quite flirting like he used to, but still laughing with them and making a subtle innuendo here and there. Imposter watches them from a nearby chair, occasionally smiling at them.

It’s nice. Honestly, it is. Even with Fuyuhiko’s face all bandaged up, he laughs along at Kazuichi’s stupid jokes and threatens to punch him for every bad one. The girls, along with Imposter and Teruteru decide to walk around the facility a little to stretch their legs.

“Aren’t you gonna follow your precious Sonia?” Fuyuhiko asks, a sly grin on his face.

Kazuichi’s face turns beet red.

“No! I uh, decided that I’m not gonna be like that anymore. Y’know the memory I had today? Me and Gundham only worked it out because after that project I realised how much of an ass I was being, so I’m gonna have to stop being an ass again,” He pauses, then panics, “I’m gonna have to apologise to her _again_ , aren’t I? Fuck. She’s never said anything about remembering me apologising. Fuck. Okay, yeah, I’m following. See you guys later, I’ve got a princess to try and convince I’m not as much of a raging asshat anymore!”

With that, Kazuichi sprints out of the door. The door slams behind him, and once again it’s just Hajime and Fuyuhiko.

“We seem to be getting left alone a lot these days,” Hajime says, knocking his knee into Fuyuhiko’s briefly.

Later, he’ll pretend that was an accident.

“Yeah, pretty sure they think we’re dealing with everything the best,” Fuyuhiko shrugs, “Not sure we are, but we’re getting there.”

Hajime pretends not to notice that Fuyuhiko knocks his own knee back.

They talk after that, about as much as they can think of. They talk about how Kazuichi’s apology is going to go – Fuyuhiko says “fucking terribly”, Hajime counters that it might go alright. They bet cocoa for a week on it.

After that, they bet a day of doing whatever the other wants on how long it’ll take for Teruteru to actually start hitting on the girls again. Fuyuhiko gives it a week, Hajime thinks it’ll take three.

When conversation starts running dry, and it feels like there’s nothing else to talk about, Fuyuhiko stops for a moment. He looks like he’s thinking hard.

“Y’know, I was right,” He has a lazy smile on his face, “About your talent.”

Hajime blinks, not quite understanding where this is going, “You know I don’t have any of those naturally, right?”

Fuyuhiko brushes him of, shaking his head, “Nah, I know that. At least, not a talent the main course would pick up on. They only cared about shit they could use. Yeah, they could have used an Ultimate Counsellor, but I think I worded it wrong when I said it back then. What I meant to say was Ultimate Friend, but I pussied out of it.”

He’s taken aback by that. His mouth hangs agape for a few moments, processing what Fuyuhiko’s said to him.

“Think about it. You made friends with Chiaki just because you liked the same game, right? Then, in the programme, you made friends with everybody just because you wanted to. Even Mahiru, who on record doesn’t like men, even _me_ who refused to talk to anybody for like the first two thirds of it,” Fuyuhiko continues, “Dunno man, you just got something about you that does that. That’s talent enough for me.”

If he thinks about it, that’s probably the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to him. Unfortunately, Hajime hasn’t quite figured out how to respond, prompting Fuyuhiko to just look at him. There was a hint of anxiety behind his eyes, like he was wondering if he’d said something wrong. Hajime can feel his own face heating up, mirroring the pink that’s now tinging Fuyuhiko’s cheeks.

The only thing Hajime can choke out is a “thank you” before everything lulls into a half-awkward silence. It’s broken when Kazuichi slams back into the room, looking between the two of them. He seems happy.

“I did it!” He grins, “And she said that she was choosing to forgive me!”

Kazuchi pumps his fist into the air, before collapsing back on the couch. Then, he looks at the two of them.

“Woah, did I catch you guys making out or something? You both look like firetrucks!”

Hajime slaps Kazuichi maybe a little too hard for that, muttering that he’s a dumbass, before staring pointedly at Fuyuhiko who groans.

“Cocoa for a week?” He sighs, “Fine, a bet’s a bet. This is why I never got involved in poker back home.”

“You guys were _betting_ about this?” Kazuichi almost looks offended, but his face is still plastered with this happy grin that lets Hajime know that he’s not actually mad, “Well, whatever. I apologised and it went well, and now I’m gonna try and be friends with her. Hajime, I take my thanks for that cocoa in the form of bro-bonding time.”

Things start to feel more normal after that. The others come back, and Sonia both smiles _and_ says hello specifically to Kazuichi, which prompts dropped jaws from both Hajime and Fuyuhiko.

“Motherfucker wasn’t kidding, huh,” Fuyuhiko mutters, “How’s midnight for cocoa?”

Hajime just nods in agreement, and settles into a comfortable silence, just listening to the others.

Midnight comes around after a slow lull. Hajime has retired to his room by now, doodling in his notebook. It’s decent enough, only pulling at Ultimate Artist when he really can’t figure out what to do next – it’s going to be a portrait of the seven of them that are awake, that he’ll probably add to when the others wake up. At the moment, he’s drawing the freckles that Fuyuhiko has dusting his cheeks, when his subject actually walks in. He’s got two paper cups in his hand, this half-annoyed half-affectionate grin on his face. It makes something twitch inside Hajime’s stomach, but since he doesn’t understand it he doesn’t think about it.

“Yo, you weren’t in the lounge so I came to find you,” Fuyuhiko puts the two cups down and flops onto the bed, “What’re you drawing?”

Hajime just shrugs, “Everybody. Sonia said journaling would be a good idea but I can’t focus on it long enough for it to be useful, so I started drawing instead.”

Fuyuhiko cranes his neck over his shoulder to watch, as Hajime shades in a portion of his hair.

“It’s good. You should ask Naegi to get you some real art supplies.”

Hajime blushes a little. He knows objectively that the drawing looks nice, he’s always been half-decent at drawing, and an extra talent helps him along with the bits that he’s not sure about, but it’s still nice to hear.

“I guess. I know there aren’t a ton of resources though, so I don’t wanna bother them.”

“I’ll ask then, isn’t your birthday soon or something?” Fuyuhiko looks like he’s thinking, “I think Natsumi told me once, your birthday’s sometime this month.”

Hajime can’t remember telling Natsumi, but he doesn’t really remember a lot about her anyway. He just nods, “Yeah. Birthday’s on New Year, so I don’t usually do anything for it.”

Fuyuhiko rolls his eyes, “Yeah, fuck that. I’ll ask Naegi to get you some art supplies, just so you have something to do. We’re all going crazy – crazier – in here without anything to keep us occupied. Honestly, you’d think they’d have thought about that. Hell, even I’d take a stupid sudoku over nothing.”

When he puts it like that, like it’s not Hajime being selfish, it doesn’t seem like much of a bad idea. Asking for more things to do, as they recover, just seems to make sense. Now that bad memories aren’t eating up all their waking hours, everybody’s been becoming restless. Bored is the word that would probably fit best, but something about conceding to feel that way makes his stomach turn.

“Alright. You win. You can ask, but only if you ask for stuff for everybody,” Hajime nudes Fuyuhiko, and puts down the notebook, “I’m sure everybody wants to do stuff, I shouldn’t be getting special treatment.”

Fuyuhiko nudges him back, and agrees.

They drink their cocoa, and eventually Fuyuhiko yawns loudly. He announces that he’s going to bed before he passes out right here, and a part of Hajime really wouldn’t mind too much if he did that. That thought is immediately stored in his brain in a box marked for never, and he sees Fuyuhiko out.

That night, he thinks a lot. Sleeping feels impossible with this niggling in his chest about something he can’t quite put his finger on, so when he runs out of thinking he turns to drawing again. New page, new picture. He blasts out fourteen drawings over the course of the evening, none of them are top-quality, but they help him stop his brain from going into overdrive.

_I like that one._

“Oh, didn’t know you know what liking was,” Hajime flinches when he speaks, “Sorry, sorry. Just, you said you wouldn’t bother me again.”

_My apologies. I just thought you should know that I find your friends to be more agreeable in this state. Under Junko Enoshima, they had become predictable._

“Everybody’s predictable to you.”

_Maybe so, but you seem to be enjoying yourself more. That is all I care about at the moment. Do not let my opinions dissuade you from doing so, I am simply happy to watch until I am needed._

Hajime lets it go after that. Maybe Kamakura isn’t that bad, but he doesn’t exactly want anybody else hearing him physically talking to himself. He notes that he should have a proper conversation with Kamakura at some point, but for now he just wants to be by himself.

By the time he does get to sleep, the sky is lightening but it's nowhere near close to daybreak. The thing that sends him off is the image of Fuyuhiko scolding him for not taking care of himself better. Of all the people to do so, Fuyuhiko seems like the unlikely choice, but Hajime knows better than that. They're friends, of course they are. It's a foreign concept, but not an unwelcome one, and it's one that both relaxes him and makes something jut into his inner organs. That also goes in the box marked for never.


	7. Thick and Thin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for some vague descriptions of some medical stuff, including needles!

Hajime wakes up late the next morning, to Kazuichi unceremoniously wandering in and plopping himself down on the edge of the bed. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, and is starting pointedly at him.

“You’re late for our soul-bro date!” He says, “And Naegi just told us all he’s gonna get Future Foundation to bring us some stuff to keep us busy. He promised me a _motor_!”

It’s far too early for this. Hajime can’t even remember agreeing to a soul-bro date, but Kazuichi is already looking at him dejectedly and it reminds him that there really aren’t that many people around to hang out with here. His time has almost solely been taken up by working on getting the others up, and on helping out Fuyuhiko, which means he’s probably been neglecting the other friendships that he’s meant to have been building. He decides that he can let it go for now.

“You could’ve knocked, man,” He mumbles, still tired, “It’s not like I’m going anywhere, is it?”

“I knocked for like, five whole minutes!” Kazuichi pokes him in the face, “And you know I’m impatient. So c’mon, get dressed. It’s soul-bro time!”

Hajime does manage to kick Kazuichi out, before he stumbles out of his pyjamas and into his clothes. He’s not exactly ecstatic to be awake, but he’ll tough it out for now. When he leaves his room, Kazuichi already has him grabbed by the wrist, big toothy grin on his face.

“C’mon man, you’re gonna help me figure out what I can make with a motor when I get my hands on one. You could even help me out with it, since you’re all super-genius now!”

“Yeah, maybe. If you ever figure out what it is you’re gonna make. As a ground rule, I’m not making a car or anything that could actually hurt somebody,” It’s fairly obvious, but sometimes the obvious needs to be stated for Kazuichi – that’s not an insult to his intelligence by any means, he just gets carried away with his ideas sometimes, “I’ll help you with, like, a remote-control toy car or something like that.”

They spend most of the day like that, aside from the hour or so it takes for them all to participate in group therapy. It’s the same as usual, the newcomers are currently in the midst of significantly more horrifying memories than the rest of them, and that’s probably a trend that will continue as the others wake up. Hajime knows that he’s the exception, considering his memories of the Tragedy are behind a whole separate layer of mental block, and he’s sure he has more to come from Kamakura’s side. Maybe he should get it out of the way and just _ask_ if he remembers at some point.

After group therapy, the whole group eats together. That’s something they’ve made a habit of. The addition of Teruteru complaining about the food that they’re given is an amusing new element, although he’s assured that in due time he’ll be allowed to cook again. From there, he raves about the variety of dishes he’ll make, asks everybody’s favourite food so that he can make a big show of it. Everybody makes a request – Hajime asks for Kusamochi, Sonia asks for Gugelhupf cake, Akane asks for the largest steak he can muster, Imposter asks for sweet buns, Kazuichi just wants anything sweet. It’s only Fuyuhiko that doesn’t make a request, just that there’s something that doesn’t contain any milk.

It’s not a memory flashback, the kind Hajime has in dreams. It’s more like digging through his brain, taking winding paths until he arrives at an answer he didn’t know he was looking for in the first place.

“Actually Teruteru, I do have another request if it isn’t too much trouble,” Hajime says, “Can you make fried dough cookies? I really liked them growing up, and I haven’t had them in forever.”

Fuyuhiko makes eye contact with him for a moment. It’s fleeting, but there’s something like surprise and understanding in it, and then it’s gone.

It feels half-normal, nearly like they aren’t all being detained. It’s better than the alternative at least. They sit and chat like that for a long time, Hajime isn’t sure how much time passes. Afterwards, Kazuichi drags him around and tells him a thousand crazy ideas for things he could build.

“I’m tellin’ ya, if Naegi lets us at Alter Ego, we could build a sentient robot!” He’s grinning, even if the idea is almost out-of-this-world ridiculous, “We could have another friend!”

“I don’t think they’d just hand off the file data to us, I know I looked at it but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to,” Hajime laughs at the idea, “Plus, if you’d want it to have a different personality then we’d need to either build one from scratch or use one of our consciousnesses, and I think that’d be weird with us all here.”

“C’mon bro, I bet you could build a whole new personality from scratch. We’d be a great team! We could give it jetpacks, or lasers, or maybe we could have it print out its memory! That’d be so cool!”

They decide to put that idea in the bank for later, which likely means never but it’s still nice to think about. A future where they can actually do that sort of thing might be far too hopeful considering everything, and yet Hajime does yearn for it. They’ll all probably be here forever, but that won’t stop them coming up with crazy what-ifs, just in case.

Dinner is much of the same talk amongst everybody, counting down the days until the others get up. Mahiru’s up next, tomorrow night she’ll wake up and Hajime will have to ask her a bunch of questions regarding what she remembers. He’s done it twice now, and the thought of doing it doesn’t get any less stressful. Still, the others seem optimistic, and he’s not going to ruin that for them with the slight possibility that the person that wakes up isn’t who they remember.

“Hajime, might I be a pain and ask for an approximate timeline of who is going to wake up and when?” Sonia smiles at him across the table.

Her prim voice makes Hajime jump a little, as he stares into his soup like it’s going to do something interesting.

“Oh, yeah. If it’s Mahiru tomorrow, then Peko the day after. Ibuki and Hiyoko should wake up in four days, then Mikan the day after that,” He replies, “Then Nekomaru should wake up in eight days, Gundham in nine, and if I’ve got everything right Nagito wakes up in ten.”

Her eyes light up, “Well then I suppose we ought to start working on a celebration for everybody’s safe return soon! Perhaps a party of some kind? I think that would be very, as they say, cash money!”

Hajime can’t recall a time that anybody has ever said that, and judging by the looks of the others neither can they. He nods along anyway, as the conversation drifts away from him and back towards the rest of them. It’s more comfortable like that, he prefers listening to what the others have to say than actually contributing himself these days. He knows that, to some extent, he’ll always be an outsider among them and he doesn’t mind that as much as he might have in the past.

After dinner, despite Kazuichi’s pleas to stay behind and talk more about their potential sentient robot, Hajime retreats to his room. It’s not that he’s tired or that he necessarily wants to be alone, he just wants to be somewhere smaller. Even if his room feels sterile, it’s more comfortable than the larger open spaces of the rest of the facility.

He draws again tonight. He knows that soon he’ll have real art supplies, but for now just drawing in his lined notebook with a pen that doesn’t quite work correctly all the time is enough for him to do. It keeps his hands busy and his brain focused on something that has little to do with what’s happening around him. Tonight, he draws a city skyline, with a towering skyscraper in the centre. He doesn’t know where the skyline comes from, but finds its intimidating grandeur beautiful anyway. When he’s done with the drawing, the image sticks with him like its been nailed directly into his brain, and the ghost of a memory is licking at the edges of his mind. He can’t place it, but it’s somewhere he knows he’s been before.

At just before midnight, Fuyuhiko walks in with two cups of cocoa. It snaps him out of his rut of trying to remember that city, and where he knows it from. He moves the notebook aside, and shuffles up to make room for the other to sit.

“How’d your soul-bro date go?” Fuyuhiko has a grin on his face, “Heard he blasted your fuckin’ door down this morning.”

Hajime laughs, “Coulda done without being woken up like that, but it was nice to hang out with him. He tell you that he wants to build a sentient robot?”

Both of them are chuckling now, both at the sheer absurdity of the idea, and how _Kazuichi_ it is to suggest something like that out of the blue. They go back and forth about this for a while, talking about the “features” that Kazuichi wanted to add to the hypothetical robot, from a death ray to flight. It’s easy and comfortable, and it isn’t long until the empty cups are forgotten and the two of them are trading laughs like it’s their job.

Their stomachs hurt, they’re tired, and at some point the two of them end up half laid down still occasionally bursting into fits of giggles over something stupid one of them said about half an hour ago. It feels like they’re kids at a sleepover, hopped up on sugar and staying up too late. When the laughter finally dies down, Hajime turns his head to face Fuyuhiko.

“We never agreed on what the winner of the Teruteru bet gets,” He says, “You got any ideas?”

Fuyuhiko turns back and shakes his head, “Nah, and I’m too fucking tired to think of one now. I’ll tell ya if I think of any, but we should both go get some rest. I’m gonna have to wait up for your ass tomorrow, and I always keep my word.”

He gets up and nods at Hajime, before leaving. He’s right of course, Hajime knows he needs to sleep if he wants to have a hope of making it through talking with Mahiru tomorrow, but the second Fuyuhiko’s out of the room his mind is back on that city. The notebook comes back out, and Hajime stares at the page, trying to remember what happened there or why it’s significant. When he tries to draw, the only image he can conjure up is of desolate streets.

“Kamakura, where is this?” He asks, “Have you been to a city like that?”

_I have. It is called Towa City. I will give you more information when you are less stressed. For now, know that I have been there, and that you will not like what I saw there._

That’s more of an answer than Hajime had expected to get. It doesn’t satisfy him, but the more he talks to Kamakura, the less he is aggravated by his presence. It is not a necessarily trusting relationship, but it doesn’t fill him with the same sense of dread as it did when he found out about the other guy living in the back of his brain.

_Get some rest. Tomorrow will be long. Feel free to call on me if it becomes too much for you._

Hajime wants to argue, but he can feel his eyelids getting heavy. It takes the rest of his energy to pull himself out of bed to change into his pyjamas, and after he’s done it takes less than five minutes for him to pass out.

The memories that come that night are of needles, white walls, and faceless voices talking about him rather than to him. They call him Izuru, and say that he’s going to bring hope to the whole world, that he was worth the measly cost of a Reserve Course student. It’s unsettling in the same way that watching a car spinning out of control is; you know that things have already taken a bad turn, and they’re only going to get worse.

The needles hurt, but he feels too heavy to protest. Regardless of it he could, he knows that any form of resistance is futile. The memory ebbs in and out of inky black, new bandages appearing each time. He asks the doctors who he is, they tell him that he’s their greatest achievement.

When he wakes up, he’s clammy and shaking. The shower here doesn’t run hot enough to wash off that sense of unending dread.

Talking about it with the others makes his skin crawl, he can still feel the needles pushing into his skin. He doesn’t remember what the others talk about that day, he doesn’t remember what happens directly afterwards. The whole day he feels like he’s halfway between being conscious and being a ghost. Everything drifts past him like he’s just watching it happen. He wonders if this is how Kamakura feels.

_Not quite, but similar. Do you need me to take over for some time?_

Hajime isn’t sure how to answer. On one hand, it would be nice to turn himself off for a while. On the other, he isn’t sure how the others would react to Kamakura’s presence. Kamakura understands, but reminds him that he need only ask if he needs a break.

He knows that he takes a nap after the lunch he barely picks at. He knows this because Fuyuhiko comes to wake him up when it’s time for dinner. He doesn’t say much of anything, besides telling him that he needs to eat something solid, and if he doesn’t then he’s going to have to let himself be fed because nobody will let him go a whole day without a proper meal. The thought of being fed makes Hajime’s stomach lurch. He doesn’t know why.

Dinner tastes like not much of anything. He tells the others that he thinks he’s just getting sick when he can hardly make it through half. None of them believe him, but they let it slide; they all heard what he remembered, they all understand. Sonia privately tells him that she’s proud of him for being able to make it through as much of his meal as he does. Kazuichi tells him that he can always come to him if he needs anything. Imposter tells him that eating so little isn’t good for him, and that he hopes his appetite comes back soon. Fuyuhiko just watches.

Midnight passes, and Hajime eventually has to drag himself to the pod room to wake Mahiru up. The first thing she asks is if she can apologise to Fuyuhiko. The answer is no, not yet. The second thing she asks is if they’ve been arrested. The answer is a half-hearted “sort of”.

He lets Izuru question Mahiru, after some internal debate about it. It’s easier this way. He can’t bare to listen to the trauma of others when he barely knows what’s going on for himself. He hopes tomorrow will be better.

Izuru leaves after Mahiru is led to a separate part of the building, just before Fuyuhiko arrives with cocoa. They sit in Hajime’s room. It’s mostly silent, but Hajime feels like Fuyuhiko understands that he’s really not feeling up to much chatting today.

“How do you feel about Kamakura?” He asks, after the cocoa has gone almost lukewarm.

Fuyuhiko looks taken aback.

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” He says, “The guy basically watched while everything went tits up, then fucked up what was meant to be our rehab. Is he bothering you?”

Hajime shakes his head, “No. He’s still in there and everything, but he’s pretty quiet most of the time. Just wanted to ask.”

They go quiet again. Fuyuhiko all-but bullies him into getting some sleep, throwing pyjamas at him until he makes a move to take off his shoes.

“When you see Peko tomorrow, tell her I’m waiting for her alright?” Fuyuhiko has a sad smile on his face, “And thanks for doing all of this. It’s gotta be pretty damn rough, but I’m – we’re all rooting for you.”

He gets a firm hand on his shoulder at that, and Hajime maybe looks for a little too long at how Fuyuhiko’s hair is growing out a little, some bits sticking up where it didn’t used to. It’s cute, he thinks.

“Now get some damn sleep, or I’ll knock you out myself.”

For the first time that day, Hajime smiles.


	8. Smooth Sailing and Twisted Stomachs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a shorter chapter this time, hope you enjoy it!

The memories that night are kinder. They’re memories of being young, at a festival. People around him are laughing and smiling, he eats kusamochi from a stall and watches fireworks. He is alone, but he doesn’t mind. He’s used to being alone.

Hajime wakes up feeling about as refreshed as can be expected. Not good, but better. He drags himself out of bed to eat breakfast, earning wistful smiles from the others, and a firm nod from Fuyuhiko. It’s a look that says “good.” – nothing more, nothing less. It still makes his stomach turn in an unfamiliar way. It’s not unpleasant, just strange. He decides to think about it properly later, when he doesn’t have Peko to worry about.

He spends the day doing very little at all. Not that doing nothing is unusual, but he makes a conscious effort to relax. Naegi announces that their entertainment items will arrive tomorrow, which puts the whole group in a good mood. Coupled with the promise that both Mahiru and Peko will hopefully be joining the group in the coming week, everybody is in a significantly better mood than usual.

When relaxing on his own gets too hard, he migrates to the lounge to drape himself over the couch next to Fuyuhiko and Imposter, who are discussing the best course of action for a celebration party, once everybody is able to be together once again. Imposter specifically wants Ryota Mitarai to be there, somebody that Hajime thinks he might have met in passing once before. He can’t quite picture the face, but he can remember a mop of brown hair hunched over a computer. When he tries for more, his brain feels too much like molasses to picture a face. Fuyuhiko thinks that it’s a good idea, that it’d be nice to get to spend some real time with him. Across the room, Teruteru is making some lewd comments to a slightly annoyed looking Sonia.

Hajime feels an elbow in his side.

“I win,” Fuyuhiko turns to him, “And because I win, I get to pick what I want, right?”

He nods, “Yeah. We never decided what the winner gets so I guess you should just pick something. Whatever you want, as long as I can physically do it.”

Fuyuhiko nods, “I’ll tell you tonight, once I’ve figured it out.”

Hajime goes back to vaguely listening to the others, dozing off at some point. It’s not necessarily sleeping, more like a lack of awareness of what’s happening around him. The clamour of voices fades into a low din, nothing that he can focus on directly but comforting nonetheless. He knows he’s not alone here. Really, he doesn’t think he’ll ever truly be alone again. He isn’t sure how to feel about that.

The inky dark he finds himself surrounded by is comfortable. It reminds him of something he can’t quite remember, although that makes no sense at all. The voices are still there, muffled by whatever his brain has conjured up, but sound incredibly far away. He’s only somewhat aware of the feeling of his head hitting something soft and warm, and his bones feel too heavy to care what it is.

The blackness smells sweet. It’s a foreign feeling, and one that he wouldn’t mind never leaving. It makes him think of milk chocolate, if he ate enough of it he’d start to feel sick but the light way it’s grazing him right now is just right.

He doesn’t know what time it is when Fuyuhiko shakes him back to alertness. Most of the others have cleared out of the lounge.

“You fucking drool in your sleep,” There’s no bite to his words, “C’mon. It’s food time. Last time you’ll have to eat Future Foundation shit too, they’re letting Teruteru cook again tomorrow.”

Hajime lets himself be dragged into the dining hall. The chocolate scented sleep doesn’t leave him until he’s faced with cheap curry and rice, that he’s sure is meant to taste of something but only might have been in the vague vicinity of a spice cabinet in the last decade. It’s enough to pull him out of the daze he’s in and take note of the room he’s in.

Everybody seems really happy. They’re talking, and laughing, and smiling. It’s nice to watch, even if he doesn’t feel like he’s a part of it. He’d have probably been bitter when he was younger, angry that he wouldn’t have been included by default, but things are different now. He knows that he belongs with them now, not based on merit or talent, but based on friendship. They still liked him when they found out he was part of the Reserve Course, and they don’t treat him much differently now they know that he’s got talent stuffed into every corner of his brain that the neurosurgeons could find. He supposes that’s along the lines of what Chiaki had tried to tell him in front of that fountain.

He doesn’t try too hard at talking with everybody over dinner. He makes comments here and there when prompted to, but he finds that he’s enjoying listening more than he would talking. The only time this changes is when Fuyuhiko grins at him from across the table, there’s a look in his eyes that tells Hajime that he might regret agreeing to bet against him. It makes his stomach twist in that strange way again, and his face heat up a little. He feels the urge to giggle. He doesn’t know why.

_Odd. This is a new sensation, Hajime. For once, you prove yourself to be something other than dull._

The voice makes his heart stop for a moment. He doesn’t know if it is something he will ever become truly used to. He tries to ignore it, now is not the time. As much as he’s come to believe that Kamakura probably won’t try to harm him or his friends, it’s difficult to really trust him implicitly. Still, he has to be grateful for the help that Kamakura can give to him. He can’t say he likes him, but he can probably tolerate him.

After dinner is cleared and Fuyuhiko has decided that Hajime has eaten a sufficient amount of food, they sit together in the lounge with the others. He can tell that Fuyuhiko is anxious about Peko, the state she will be in, what she will think. He doesn’t know how to help, so he just assures him that Peko will be taken care of.

“I trust you,” He says, “Just make sure she’s safe. I can’t lose another fucking sister.”

Hajime nods. It’s nice to hear that he’s trusted. It’s nice to hear that Fuyuhiko trusts him with this. He’d understand if he didn’t, with his track record of screwing things up for them, it would make sense. Yet, it doesn’t matter. He puts an arm around Fuyuhiko’s shoulder, and smiles at him.

“I’ll bring her back safe,” He promises, “All the data we have so far says that she’ll be just fine. So, working off of that, she’ll be back within a couple weeks.”

Fuyuhiko has tensed up, but he hasn’t pushed Hajime away yet, so he stays like that. After a while, Fuyuhiko leans into him. He’s slow to do it, staring down at his hands, but he gets there eventually. Hajime knows that they don’t usually share affection like this, but tonight it feels like the right thing to do.

“Are you sure I can’t come in and see her?” He mumbles, voice cracking slightly.

Hajime squeezes him gently, “I’m sure. I’m sorry. If I knew for sure she wouldn’t react badly, I’d let you, but the last thing she’ll remember is you getting stabbed. Gotta let her in gently.”

They sit in silence after that, until Naegi comes to get him. As he gets up, Fuyuhiko pinches the sleeve of his jacket, and looks up at him.

“I’ll come meet you in your room afterwards, alright?” He says, “You gotta tell me everything.”

He follows Naegi after that, a fresh sense of determination in his chest. He knows he can’t let Fuyuhiko down now.

Getting Peko up isn’t too much of a task. When she wakes up, she bolts upright, eyes flitting around the room like a deer in headlights. It’s the second time Hajime can recall seeing her like that, the only other time was during her execution.

“Where is the young master?” She asks, “Did he survive?”

Hajime pulls her up towards the desk so that she can sit. She’s significantly lighter than he expected.

“He’s fine, Peko. He’ll be able to see you in a few days. I need to ask you a few questions though, alright?” He tries his best to put on a comforting smile, “It’s nothing too vigorous, just about what you remember, and how you’re feeling.”

She visibly relaxes, and nods, “Yes. That is fine, Hajime. As long as his safety is assured, I will answer any questions to the best of my ability.”

“Great, thanks. First, how are you feeling?” He pulls out the notebook that he’s been writing everything down in, “Emotionally and physically if you don’t mind.”

Peko goes through what she’s feeling. She isn’t in any physical pain, but she’s worried about Fuyuhiko which is causing her some distress. She’s confused, which is understandable, but is calmed quickly once all is explained to her. She remembers the programme up until her “death”, remembers the Tragedy and her role in it. Overall, she’s about as okay as can be expected.

After a brief medical, nearly everything comes back as normal. She’s slightly deficient in a few vitamins, but overall she’s relatively healthy. She just looks tired. It’s a relief to be able to say that, especially remembering how almost-dead Akane had looked when she woke up.

Before Peko can be escorted away, she looks Hajime up and down.

“Please assure the young master that I will return to him in due time,” She says, “I regret that I cannot see him now.”

She allows herself to be taken by Naegi and Kirigiri, following them through a door to a different part of the building. Watching her go, Hajime feels like his work is paying off. None of them are perfect, but they’re all trying their best, and when it comes down to it they’re always going to have each other if something goes wrong. Going through this is still exhausting though. He doesn’t blame anybody for relying on him, in their position he probably would too, but it’s no less heartbreaking repeatedly watch people he calls friends go through something this harrowing.

Fuyuhiko is already in his room with cocoa when he comes back, a small smile on his face.

“How is she?” He asks, gesturing for him to sit down.

“About as good as we could hope for,” Hajime replies, “Once I told her that you’re safe and well, she got a lot better. From the looks of things, she’ll be joining us soon, providing nothing goes wrong. Only thing is her nutrition, but with Teruteru cooking again I don’t think that’ll be much of an issue.”

The way that Fuyuhiko smiles at that makes Hajime feel warm inside. Or maybe it’s just the cocoa, he can’t tell. Regardless, the good news has made somebody happy and that’s all Hajime could ask for at this point.

“I decided what I wanted by the way,” There’s a small grin on his face now, “You’re bringing me cocoa all next week. Sound fair?”

There are a thousand worse things that Hajime can think of that Fuyuhiko might have asked for. He’s become incredibly comfortable in their routine of cocoa before bed, and having an excuse to do it for a further seven days doesn’t sound bad to him.

“You’re on,” he grins back, “Guess you’ll have to put up with me for a little longer.”

“Pfft, I fucking like you. I told you that already, didn’t I?” Fuyuhiko elbows him gently in the side, “Now don’t make me say it again, and stop with that depressing crap or you’ll start sounding like Nagito.”

After the cocoa’s over and done with, they sit together for a while longer. They usually do, chatting about this or that. Hajime barely notices that it’s already starting to get light outside when there’s a bump on his shoulder – Fuyuhiko’s completely passed out.

Gently nudging him does nothing, so Hajime does the second-best thing which is scooping him up and doing his best to manoeuvre him back to his room. He can’t help but notice how absolutely tiny Fuyuhiko looks like this. It’s probably exacerbated by the way he’s bent at the hips, knees hooked over Hajime’s arm, but he seems so small and fragile like this. Hajime knows that if he actually said any of that he’d get a fist in his face.

Fuyuhiko’s room is only a few doors down from his, so it doesn’t take too long to carry him there. It feels too weird to actually undress him, but Hajime would feel bad letting him sleep like that so he takes off his shoes and folds his jacket neatly to the side. The twisting in his stomach returns. Once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. He decides to write down when this feeling happens, and what causes it.

Back in his own room, he goes to the back of his notebook and starts writing.

  1. _Morning, over breakfast. Fuyuhiko looked at me in a way that felt like he was praising me._
  2. _Evening, over dinner. Fuyuhiko grinned at me._
  3. _I put Fuyuhiko to bed._



It still doesn’t make much sense to him, but he does know that so far the evidence has presented that Fuyuhiko is the cause of this strange feeling. He’s too tired to truly put his mind to figuring out what it is, but he hopes the next day will bring some more answers. When he lies down, the sweet smell of hot chocolate is there to guide him to sleep.


End file.
